Louise Gluck

Northwood Path

For my part
we are as we were
on the path
that afternoon:
it is
October, I can see
the sun sink
drawing out 
our parallel
shadows. And you,
for example what
were you thinking, so
attentive to your 
shoes? I recall
we spoke of
your car
the whole length
of the woods:
in so much withering
the pokeweed had
branched into its
purplish berry—so
desire called
love into being.
But always the choice
was on both sides
as you said, 
in the dark you came
to need,
you would do it again