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HE WON’T SLEEP IN THEIR BED

A man whose wife, sallow skin,

sparse hair—Intensive

Care—cancer, won’t sleep in their bed,

but lays on the couch in their den

watching reruns all night. Yesterday

he stood at the pond in the park, stared

while the swan coming toward him

became a woman, his wife

in a long gauze gown standing

in a white boat, coming closer and closer

her arms held out to him,

her long, dark hair trailing

behind her in the breeze.

He held out his arm

to help her ashore, blinked­—

she was gone. And he

was standing

in the cold, cold water.