2928

2927

2926

2926
With thunderbolts
Of peanuts am I
From four-storeyed Olympus
Zeus to the mortal squirrels
With seamless eyes.
In wonder they stand upon the sound
Of a certain window opening.

2925

2924

2923

2922

2921

2749b

2749
My august ancestral strands will all to one twine,
To one twine all,
It is a matter
Of time.
My grandfather strolled
In Prague along and puffed at his cigar.
The sky was gray but for an intermittent column of light
And the boulevards met this horizon
And that, at this or another angle,
With a cathedral coherence
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.