All evening, each time I started to say it,

something would interrupt.

It was not a thought so very large--

it could in fact have slipped through any window

cracked open a bit for air.

Yet each time I started to say it, at that table,

someone else would speak, the moment would pass.

After the fifth time this happened, I began to be amused.

Runt-of-the-litter-thought, I thought, unable to get to the tit.

Then suddenly wanted to lift it up,