Poem 8
A film without words. A young woman dances in a field, she projects innocence. More experienced women follow, offering invitations of cigarettes and cocktails and then of sex. A man responds, but is he a lover or a madman. In between this sporadic narrative, a train arrives in New York City, its skyline appears, a ship leaves port, while well-wishers wave goodbye, and a boat's wake leaves a pattern in water. Near the end, a woman draped in white muslin dances and swirls in a field, her eyes closed. Leaves fall, a woman walks, a man seems to follow her. Women's invitations, men's responses. Possibilities abound, but not all are benign. Written by
