Thanks to Deb for the reminder.
After Making Love We Hear Footsteps
For I can snore like a bullhorn
or play loud music
or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman
and Fergus will only sink deeper
into his dreamless sleep, which goes by all in one flash,
but let there be that heavy breathing
or a stifled come-cry anywhere in the house
and he will wrench himself awake
and make for it on the run — as now, we lie together,
after making love, quiet, touching along the length of our bodies,
familiar touch of the long-married,
and he appears — in his baseball pajamas, it happens,
the neck opening so small he has to screw them on —
and flops down between us and hugs us and snuggles himself to sleep,
his face gleaming with satisfaction at being this very child.
In the half darkness we look at each other
and smile
and touch arms across this little, startlingly muscled body —
this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
this blessing love gives again into our arms.
Galway Kinnell
1980, 1993
For more information about the Annual Brigid Poetry Reading, go here.
Nice.
Oh. just lovely.
Hey it’s hard to find a good sexy married people poem, good on you!
Beautiful! (And, you’re welcome.)
Ah, the poetry day seems to have slipped by me this year.
This is lovely!
I remember with fondness when during departmental parties for English majors our poetry professor would start reciting poems. This was one of our favorites…
Thank you! This one is new to me, and I know it will be one I will return to. Fantastic!!!
That is a wonderful and truthful poem. I just sent it along to my friends with children …
One of my favorite poems. I have never read the edited/revised version- he got rid of some extraneous lines. This version reads much better.
Sweet. I love this one.
It’s funny ‘cuz it’s true!
I honestly just blocked my CPH and came across this poem…you made my weekend. Thanks Cara – we’re lucky folk.