Stone Pillow: New and Selected Poems
The only Photograph of Her Affair
Her husband believes it’s a mistake
Yet wonders why she holds on
To what appears to be nothing
More than a tree, small bit of sky
And a tangle of shadows below.
She tells him an unconscious bump
Must have snapped the shutter
On what could be
morning or evening anywhere
Women are vigilant
and men so quickly distracted
She believes he’ll never know
That her lover is near
And she sits, back against a plum tree
With a flower print skirt
Tucked between white thighs,
Soft blonde threads glistening
With dew, and a delirious heat rising
from the tender grass below
There were tiny birds above
Deep in an anarchy of leaves
And limbs. And hungry mouths
Made small cries. The unmistakable
Sounds of dawn or dusk.
–Lonnie Hodge
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