— Diane Lee Moomey
no need to be told how. Infant body
watches — each year
carves learning deeper into cells. Grown body
speaks without speaking:
the crossed arms, the open arms
the arms akimbo,
the crossed legs, the tapping
foot, the swinging foot,
the shrug, the shaken finger,
The smile and the frown,
the head — the nod “yes,” the shake “no.”
The shake from side to side, slight rocking:
“Maybe, but probably not.”
The innocent body knows its own dance,
the glossary of Home, knows not
of knowing only one until waking
one day in Kathmandu.
He shook his head.
“Yes” he’d said, but I heard “no”
and walked away . . .