The Porch, Late Evening

When I told Roger that I had never loved
a woman
not really, anyway
he wheezed and laughed
and lit a cigarette

and said

"I loved a woman once;
a great grey turret
of a woman
as stiff and thick as a stanchion
with eyes as wide and slow
as pelicans
and shoulders as broken and slumped
as Tennessee."

I remember thinking that, perhaps,
I could love someone
who could love someone like that