They call me and I go.
It is a
frozen road
past
midnight, a dust
of
snow caught
in the rigid wheeltracks.
The door opens.
I smile, enter and
shake off the cold.
Here is
a great woman
on her side in the bed.
She is sick,
perhaps vomiting,
perhaps laboring
to
give birth to
a tenth child.
Joy! Joy!
Night is a room
darkened for
lovers,
through the
jalousies the sun
has sent one golden needle!
I pick the hair from her eyes
and watch her
misery
with
compassion.
--William Carlos Williams