Behind The Windows 1997

 

        Behind The Windows
 We bring to the thing the thing we are –

Not less, not more.

So as I fetch the post

And look across at Sonny’s house,

His pregnant wife,

How goes it with their married life

Behind the windows private, closed?

How is my neighbor Ralph, his fru*–

Their love life – life when day is through?

I’m not perverse or curious –

Quite the reverse, I’m pure, lust’s seed

All gone. My love life carries on,

Affection at the base,

But struck by what’s behind the lace,

The permutations, variations on a theme,

The sex a symbol of a dream.

 

Behind the windows are my friends,

Committed to their common ends.

The daily twos I meet

When we have something nice to eat,

Trade visits, pleasant talk.

Behind the window do they balk

At tender touching, joke-filled groping?

Has the sex fulfilled the hoping?

Do the hopes go hand-in-hand

With the candled mealtimes?

Something’s
going on.Is what is lost more than was won?

One never sees the times back of the blinds.

That why a blind is called a blind:

The outside never sees behind,

Never knows the couple’s minds –

I speculate on ghosts and costs,

And springs and frosts,

And wonder, as I fetch the post and look across,

What loves are won and what is lost?

©
 

 

 

 

Behind The Windows 97.7.7Love Relationships; On The Way To The Post;
Arlene Corwin

 

 

 *fru means wife in Swedish
 

 

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