First Wife
I never asked you to dance
in the moonlight
by the pool of St. Martins statue.
I never saw you
sweep your hands
over the plains lovegrass
of a dewy field,
making them bend with you
and against you.
I never asked
what was your
dancer’s name.
You were a dancer
a lifetime ago,
before the babies
came, grew
and were gone.
Copyright © Douglas Brown | Year Posted 2022
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