Villanelle For Jan
There is a tranquil eye inside the hurricane;
I think (perhaps I’m wrong) that’s something you once said,
somewhere, hidden, on the other side of pain.
Last night, as I was walking to you in the rain,
the western sky above the hills glowed blue and red.
There is a tranquil eye inside the hurricane.
And, as I passed the trellis by your windowpane,
I saw you lying, naked, on your walnut bed,
somewhere, hidden, on the other side of pain.
You weren’t alone; another lay where I had lain
beside you on those summer days of words unsaid.
There is a tranquil eye inside the hurricane.
And in the cold, outside your window, as a train
incised the night, I saw you smile and hold his head —
somewhere, hidden, on the other side of pain.
I don’t know why I came to you again,
but a love that’s slipped away is never really dead.
There is a tranquil eye inside the hurricane …
somewhere, hidden, on the other side of pain.