A Precise Woman

A poem by Yehuda Amichai

A precise woman with a short haircut brings order
to my thoughts and my dresser drawers,
moves feelings around like furniture
into a new arrangement.
A woman whose body is cinched at the waist and firmly divided
into upper and lower,
with weather-forecast eyes
of shatterproof glass.
Even her cries of passion follow a certain order,
one after the other:
tame dove, then wild dove,
then peacock, wounded peacock, peacock, peacock,
the wild dove, tame dove, dove dove
thrush, thrush, thrush.

A precise woman: on the bedroom carpet her shoes always point away from the bed.
(My own shoes point toward it.)

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'A Precise Woman' by Yehuda Amichai

comments powered by Disqus