from Light: Men’s Voices

—once in a temple—

men’s voices in the sun

—once I was caryatid

number nine—

men’s voices in the park

—I was a statue

untouchable naked

with no other mirror

than the fingers of the air

yielding to thought after thought

with no other sadness

than the rustling of leaves—

men’s voices in the park:

why did they waken me?