the naked man

The Naked Man

I was coming out of a bar late at night in Amsterdam
when I saw a light from a house in a dark street and
was drawn to it like a moth.
I saw a naked man, huge as a white elephant, washing
washing himself, by the kitchen sink, and I was
enthralled by his slow almost sensuous movement as
he cleaned his body with a cloth; and his eyes were
closed, clearly he enjoyed his absolution.
His body was alabaster white quite luminous he was
alone and the moment was intensely his.

I was trespassing it was not my business to be here,
so I walked on back to my ship, but the memory
stayed with me as a beautiful clarity of human
vulnerability, in a radiant moment of utter privacy.