Portrait

Seeing in crowded restaurants the one you love You wave at the door, tall girl in imperious fur, And make for him, bumping waiters, dropping a glove, Arriving soft with affectionate slur. As ladies half-turn, gazing, and men appraise You heap the linen with purse, scarf, cigarettes, lighter, Laughing some instantaneous droll phrase. As if sudden sun came out, the table is brighter. All moods: at a party everybody’s delight; Intent while brown curls shadow the serious page; When people are stuffy (more correct than right) The stamp and turn on heel of a little girl’s rage. But woman mostly, as winter moonlight sees, Impetuous midnight, and the dune’s dark trees.