Other Women Poem by Mike Finley

How you must all wonder
what he is really like

The delight of him human
so stirring to the breast

He gets the remotest sense
of their experience

To be near such a one
so pregnant with promise

They one they expected
all those waiting years

The one who sees
the lining of their hearts

He is no great lover
but that is no great matter

They hunger for instruction
And he has armloads written

In hope of the fluttering moment
when iris blossoms out

And the plumed figure moves
another speckled flank may thrash

On the hook of an
upraised eyebrow