Creeley, Robert: The Pool

My embarrassment at his nakedness,  

at the pool’s edge,

and my wife, with his,

standing, watching—

this was a freedom  

not given me who am  

more naked,

less contained

by my own white flesh

and the ability  

to take quietly  

what comes to me.

The sense of myself  

separate, grew

a white mirror

in the quiet water

he breaks with his hands  

and feet, kicking,

pulls up to land

on the edge by the feet

of these women  

who must know  

that for each

man is a speech

describes him, makes

the day grow white

and sure, a quietness of water  

in the mind,

lets hang, descriptive  

as a risk, something

for which he cannot find  

a means or time.