From The Last Time Poem by Jack Buck

occurring in a kitchen
framed by a window
above a sink
it's pouring in this town
that used to be all woods
taking over the remainder of evening
a beautiful woman
we are married two children
in front of me
her back towards me
I just about reach her
to place my hand on her shoulder
I want her to be her
the house fades
is elsewhere with decision
with no one out on the road
the traffic light blinking
is still probably blinking
standing in the middle of the street
the one thing you can at least go back to
you can see clearly her face from before