A night in November begins

A night in November begins
when Stephanie places my fingertip
against the world that appears
firm and round under her left breast.
A stone in deep water catching momentary light.

The next week the waiting room
and over it all blue sky drifting among the hours.
The stars stand where they are, each one alone.
The surgeon performs a robin-beak incision
and I stay with his eyes which betray nothing.

Inside my fear the engines of the imperceptible:
to taste to touch to hear to see and stay with it.
The woman, the man, and all creatures in
ultimate performance.
There is balance here, as in the healthy eagle,
a balance we see only a part of each one, and for a
moment only.