Villanelle for a Lesbian Mom
by Robin Becker
published in Harvard Magazine by Harvard Press https://harvardmagazine.com/sites/default/files/html/1996/07/poetry.html
It wasn't love but chance and rather sweet- your newly weaned son asleep in his crib, your breasts too tender to be touched. And touch itself, too early, indiscreet. Who would have believed that over a drink and something to eat you'd lose your car, locked in overnight? Parking offender, it wasn't love but chance and rather sweet. So you found yourself in bed with a grown-up, a feat of sorts. My recent loss had left me wondering when I'd mend or want to be touched. I wanted you, however indiscreet. Your small son breathed and coughed. I tried to sleep but couldn't ignore what your body engendered in mine. It wasn't love but chance and strangely sweet. I like your name; you're used to mine, ironic repeat of your old lover's. With so few facts ought two people surrender to touch? (Better to date, slow down, try to be discreet.) OK, let's walk around the pond, take a few months or weeks to study each other and see what portends or not. It wasn't love but chance and rather sweet. I'm moved by you as well as touched: shy and indiscreet.
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