I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape!
O curls! O perfume nonchalant and rare!
O ecstasy! To fill this alcove shape
With memories that in these tresses sleep,
To A Lock Of Hair
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
As in that well - remember'd night
When first thy mystic braid was wove,
And first my Agnes whisper'd love.
Finding A Long Gray Hair
I scrub the long floorboards
in the kitchen, repeating
the motions of other women
who have lived in this house.
Dreaming Of Hair
Ivy ties the cellar door
in autumn, in summer morning glory
wraps the ribs of a mouse.
Love binds me to the one
Hair And Hustle
Dear can you help me for a while?
asked apologetically for a good smile,
’No’ replied a friend, keeping distance mile,
worries all around so can’t smile,