Just once I knew what life was for. <br />In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood; <br />walked there along the Charles River, <br />watched the lights copying themselves, <br />all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening <br />their mouths as wide as opera singers; <br />counted the stars, my little campaigners, <br />my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love <br />on the night green side of it and cried <br />my heart to the eastbound cars and cried <br />my heart to the westbound cars and took <br />my truth across a small humped bridge <br />and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home <br />and hoarded these constants into morning <br />only to find them gone.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/just-once-13/