Sport 14: Autumn 1995
With her hands in frilled white
cuffs and her arms spread
to either side in a dark armchair
she relaxes the entire room,
the city, the morbidities of career
talk, while the fire
leaps on itself, the shaded
lamp brims its chaste corner,
the rims of glasses
floating their thin bangles.
She grows ‘lovelier and lovelier’
while nothing is said,
nor done, nor intended,
nor, mind you, quite out of the question.
Think of fishes and five loaves.