POET’S WORK

1.

You carry a saucer of clear water,

Smelling faintly of lemon, that spills

Into the dark roots of what

Was I saying? Hurt or dance, the stunned

Hours, arguments for and against:

There’s a tap here somewhere.

2.

This dream: on white linen, in the high ceilinged room,

Marie and Julia had spread baskets of focaccia,

A steaming zucchini torte, ham in thin, almost deliquescent slices,

Mottled ovals of salami, around a huge bowl in which chunks of

crabmeat,

With its sweet, iodine smell of high tide, were strewn

Among quarter moons of sun-colored tomatoes and lettuce leaves

Of some species as tender-looking as the child’s death had been.

3.

If there is a way in, it may be

Through the corolla of the cinquefoil

With its pale yellow petals,

In the mixed smell of dust and water

At trailside in the middle reaches of July.

Soft: an almost phospher gleam in twilight.