“The Word Wife

When the silence between them was a new thing—a morning in a garden—

he took a pencil and sketched her feet.

He matched her ankles

in crisp lines falling like wisps

of hair from a boy's first cut.

The quick strokes were moths

lighting her body, the background

white, like the word wife, first light touching the violet's hair. The new word husband, hush of a car up the street.

Pigeons swallowing their tongues beneath the eaves.”

~Joy Katz #poem 🔥