(1925 ~ 2014)
Maxine Kumin
After Love
Bodies resume their boundaries.
These legs, for instance, mine.
Your arms take you back in.
Spoons of our fingers, lips
admit their ownership.
The bedding yawns, a door
blows aimlessly ajar
and overhead, a plane
singsongs coming down.
Nothing is changed, except
there was a moment when
the wolf, the mongering wolf
who stands outside the self
lay lightly down, and slept.
_____________________
Maxine Kumin
Selected Poems, 1960-1990
(W. W. Norton and Company Inc., 1998)
