did my mother see me, early evening in summer
just before lamplighting time. Fourteen or fifteen,
I sat leaning against the doorway, facing the darker,
bluer side of the sky, where the crooked road from the east
reaches over the mountainside. I was almost hidden,
that must have been why she slowed and stopped
or maybe she had only turned from her hurry
to look for a moment at the last of the sun.
She smiled a little, the air was cool
and still as the water in the well
beneath the unlifted stone.
Are you looking for something, Leah?
she said, and I gave her my full, real eyes
though already she was looking
back toward the sun.
Yes, I told her.
Anyone.