Stunning Countenance of His Wife

I don't seek this eternity of unhappiness,
I don't want to be an accountant keeping the record
Of my sources of distress.

I merely want to hear a woman's voice
At a theater or on a dance floor
And to simply be dazzled by her earrings and perfume,
To remain joyously for the night ecstatic in her room.

But I know my fate is not so auspicious,
I'm more likely to be shot or slapped in the face
By some nobler man properly enraged
That I lingered too long with my eyes
Upon the stunning countenance of his wife.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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