Naaman Feeling Low 1962 Poem by Terry Collett

I opened the Talmud
and read as was said.

I closed the book
and kept what I read
in my head.

I lay on my bed
and mused
on Shoshana:
dark haired,
dark of eyes,
lips to speak and kiss.

I dreamed last night
of her in my arms
and woke hugging
my pillow
smelling of my sweat
and dry shampoo.

I never saw her today
maybe she was away.

Naaman, you'll say,
did you miss me today?

Like the night sky
misses the stars
and moon
or the summer sky
the sun and birds
in flight.

She told me
her sister
was pregnant
and her parents
are mad
and all is intense.

She daren't
say about me
going to see her
not just now.

I see a moth
at the windowpane
fluttering against
the glass
trying to get in.

My parents
are downstairs
watching TV.

I hear their laughter
hang in the air,
some comedy show.

I watch the moth fluttering
feeling low.