18 June 2016
My august ancestral strands will all to one twine,
To one twine all,
It is a matter
My grandfather strolled
In Prague and stood to puff his cigar.
The sky was gray but for an intermittent column of light.
The boulevards met this horizon
And that, at this or another angle,
With somehow a cathedral coherence,
As a masterwork of single intent.
He was content
And took note of nothing beyond this his contentment.
This is who I was before I was born, looking
Idly at the sky.
14 June 2016
11 June 2016
29 May 2016
25 May 2016
15 May 2016
Oliver Sacks has died
And the brass columns,
The pipes at each end threaded,
By caliber and density,
By mathematical qualities,
In the hand:
The beneficence of solidity;
Then would these brass lines bend, stretch, arc
Most curiously, pleasingly
A rulered solidity still.
How measure a quality
On the same scale merely
12 May 2016
The sparrow flew up to greet me,
Watching sharply as I was
The smoke in the sun from my cigarette.
At his second try he was in my eye,
Four storeys balanced in the air.
He knew me I know
From our pavement conversations.
Again he came up
A bit away this time
And with a jut of himself,
Caught his prey.