Image Tensed

Image tensed, I eye the instant, Anticipation welling— And I expect no one; In the lit shadows I watch as the doorbell Sheds its inaudible Pollen of sound— And I expect no one; Within four walls Astounded more by space Than any desert place, I expect no one; But come he will, He must, if I hold on To bloom unseen; He’ll suddenly appear When I am least aware: Coming as if to forgive All he gives to death, Coming to assure me Of his reward and mine, Coming as anodyne For my pain, for his— Perhaps his whisper is Already on its way.