I should have trekked with Scott to Antarctica
and ditched my ghost there, so I’d be numb
as prairie ice by now, free from love’s arsenic
to-ing and fro-ing, my hope fitful as a swannery.
I should have lived heartsimple as a nun,
worn my habits like silk, said buckshot Hail Marys,
been exempt from the fiery greens of summer
and your gaze overflowing my saucer eyes.
I should have been a thermal, or the windage
in a breeze left by the swift absence of a nighthawk,
been immune to all the heady fret and vigil
when doubt sails cockeyed as an ice yacht.
Or I should have been a gypsy fit to besot you,
rivet you with spells, puzzle and haunt you,
ripe as a pomegranate, a sensual stampede,
not this plain young woman with an abstract need.