The Suitor by Jane Kenyon (1996)

We lie back to back. Curtains
lift and fall,
like the chest of someone sleeping. 
Wind moves the leaves of the box elder; 
they show their light undersides,
turning all at once
like a school of fish. 
Suddenly I understand that I am happy. 
For months this feeling
has been coming closer, stopping
for short visits, like a timid suitor.
 

Angeliki KapoglouComment