The first act of love in a new house
is not private. Loving each other
we are half-aware of door and mirror.
Our ecstasy includes the bedside chair,
the air from the landing.
Street-lamp and elm utter leaves on walls
as in no room ever. Theirs is the tongue
our tongues join in translating. Their message
is clear: tonight you cannot ignore
the world at the window.
So we love in the knowledge of a city
at a different angle. And sharing
our bed with furniture and tree we claim
their perspective, merging our lives here
in their established frame.
Frank Ormsby, “Moving In” from Goat’s Milk. Copyright © 2015 by Frank Ormsby. Reprinted by permission of Wake Forest University Press.
Source: Goat’s Milk (Wake Forest University Press, 2015)
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