John Biscello

It was only after they were dropped off

and left alone in the middle

of an autumn-brushed field,

that she realized that the man

with whom she was paired

was no longer her husband,

or never had been;

the stranger’s unfamiliar after-shave

and firm hand tensing on her back

doubling as a question mark

and invitation

to reap rootless intimacy

among the silent tide

of bent grass.