The Body Knew First

A woman
was sitting.

Her hair
was tied back.

So it would not fall
while she worked.

At her ears,
at her neck,

nothing
that glittered.

One hand
was near her neck,

the other
rested on her leg.

Her fingers
came down from behind her ear

and pressed
one side of her neck.

“Does your neck
hurt?”

“A little.”

“Let's stop here for today

and go on
tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow
I have to go to work,

so I can't come.”

The woman
turned her neck slowly.

It stopped
at one side.

Only her eyes

came
this way.

I
put down the brush.

I waited

a moment.

The woman said,

“Go on,
paint.”

Her hand
was still at her neck.

I
picked up the brush again.

The tilted neck.

The lowered shoulder.

The thick arm.

The large hand
resting on the leg.