THE POEM I DIDN’T WRITE

Here is the poem I was going to write

earlier, but didn’t

because I heard you stirring.

I was thinking

again about that first morning in Zurich.

How we woke up before sunrise.

Disoriented for a minute. But going

out onto the balcony that looked down

over the river, and the old part of the city.

And simply standing there, speechless.

Nude. Watching the sky lighten.

So thrilled and happy. As if

we’d been put there

just at that moment.