Having And Keeping Poem by David Watts

Having and Keeping

She takes off her clothes without reservation.
The territories of her body sing
the sweet harmonies that are particular
to her.How the cave
of her navel, the valleys between ribs
know to love each other.

If I am lucky I will be allowed
to enter the heart of this woman and wrap
her body around me
before sorrow returns, and she
has moved on to someone else.

The moment with this woman, if it happened,
is gone.Things are not what they were.
The hot wind off a Texas prairie, a family
touring Colorado in a green and beige
‘53 Chevy wagon
might have happened too.One cannot be sure.
Having is different from keeping.

My daughter sends an email from Connecticut.
She is happy about the music the grandchildren
are making.The beauty of what I hear
has left their voices
and they are off washing dishes or doing
homework.What I am listening to is a memory
of where they were when they made this music.

I look across my deck to the arrangement
of branches against the setting sun.
The woodpecker's red tuft glints perfectly
in the fading light.What I see
has changed even
before the woodpecker flies away.
I cannot keep where he was or anything else
about him.

But if these things happened,
even in approximation to what I believe,
then I have been given this music, the vacation,
the hot wind off the prairie and maybe
even the woman.
It is enough to think so.