Tuesday, June 4, 2013


Or gum from the peach tree
in the Hungarian back yard —
how many years.

I had an alchemical
laboratory in the cellar
and didn’t know it. 
I thought it was all logwood,
spirit lamp, daydreams, silverfish,
window screen, dust, dark weeds outside,
the peach tree wrapped in burlap, sulfur,
test tube, book. 
But it was alchemy. 
My parents told me so
by leaving me and it alone.

                                                            3 June 2013

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Sunday on Cuttyhunk, cold bright wind from the sea, big waves rolling in.  We're happy to be here.
When the violin climbs the stairs
and the cello dithers down below
we know an assignation’s forward,
a pretty girl up there

with her arms full of violets.