As he writes, without looking at the sea, <br />he feels the tip of his pen begin to tremble. <br />The tide is going out across the shingle. <br />But it isn't that. No, <br />it's because at that moment she chooses <br />to walk into the room without any clothes on. <br />Drowsy, not even sure where she is <br />for a moment. She waves the hair from her forehead. <br />Sits on the toilet with her eyes closed, <br />head down. Legs sprawled. He sees her <br />through the doorway. Maybe <br />she's remembering what happened that morning. <br />For after a time, she opens one eye and looks at him. <br />And sweetly smiles. <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous submission.<br /><br />Raymond Carver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-afternoon/
