Saturday, February 03, 2007


Assume a woman. There she sits, bemused,
already knowing she has been assumed.
Women do, mostly. She lifts her long hair
and lets it fall, half flirting, half fatigued.

Assume an incident, the victim slumped
against your hedge, holding himself together.
The cops have come. The perp has fled. You can
assume the rain will not efface the blood,
though something will, if you can hang around.

Picture the telephone. It is prepared
to ring, whether it rings today or not.
If no one calls, you can pick up your phone
to see if it's still working. But it is.

Assume the central man. If vectors run
from woman through the phone to accident,
he'll light them up at night. And if they don't,
he can propose the sense of why they should.
It falls together, when you reach the end.


Agnes said...

I wouldn't want to assume, Richard, but are we missing some letters in the first stanza?

I'm off for a nap now...

RHE said...

I found only 1 letter missing, but thank you for your careful reading.

Agnes said...

No problemo. Now sit. That's the other word in question, I mean.

RHE said...