OCR Text |
Show LOVE IS A SUMMER ROOM Imagine that room around us, the afternoon world only a window away, ourselves warily speaking of high haze, the neighbor's green yard- one tree standing in death like a thought of January, though nearer us, waiting, summer honeys the air. From the mirroring curve of muttering coffee urn, mis-shape of the doorway shines back like a Botticelli angel with pink wings. How lost we are in that pattern, I observe. You slice the cake, smiling, onto plates with a Persian border. After a while We may read aloud, sending our voices, cool, casual, among poems (never shatter, with promise, each other*- but keep of such open-door day, marked on the mind's wall some tall sweet, like saffron irises in stir of weather soft as your turn toward me, or the roseleaves' falling.) |