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Your Echo Comes from Long Lost Time

Your Echo Comes from Long Lost Time ……. …………….. Your echo comes, reverberating from Lost hours, those twenty thousand days betrayed By absence, nights whose sweetness will not come Now, never be redeemed.  Not even grayed Out...

Strokes

                     Strokes My mother is an oval brooch now.  She Is carved from colors like those pralines made Of deep brown sugar and pecans.  We see Her head, the blonder layer in the shade Of beeswax in the silhouette above The darker ground behind her profile...

Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose

Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose Today I chew the peanut butter, sweet Grape jelly, white bread sandwich which she made For me those sixty years ago. I eat Not just a memory refusing to fade But actually the groundnut spread and dark Fruit layer in between the...

His Hair

               His Hair    [The infant Phillip sleeping under a Florida fan] The air blows just above his brow. Hair lifts And falls like thought inside an angel’s brain While drowsing. Curls like these are gentle gifts From heaven. Silks like these can know no...

Family Portrait Sonnets — a Sequence

Family Portrait Sonnet–a Sequence An Ideal Shape and the 1950s He lined us up in no conceivable Arrangement, except a pyramidal One, which is only just perceivable. Our father’s smile is not a riddle; He was a handsome, square-based man, and so The...