Adam was seduced by an orange, I suppose, & the pastiche of mythology is
perfect & round forcing our hands, melting our wings, plunging us into night

or into travel across the ground like a snake & whether this journey takes me
through Hades or Europe, it is hunger that divides & unites:

the Tigris & the Euphrates.



Garden


The genius of a cloud
is its shadow crossing the garden:

a woman in a green hat,
sunglasses,
a long black dress: 

a stand of shivering trees
following the sun’s instructions
to be green & good: 

the hum of traffic
glancing the humming garden:

the little sliver of morning,
speaking in damlets of sun,
bending easy as a rose
into the afternoon:

forsythia rupturing in tremors:
tulips in their simple hats
filling with resolve: 

proof that the world is round
falling pretty from the mouths of lilies.



[If anything is a gift from God]


If anything is a gift from God
            it is the lilac that fences the rail yard

in a general address of thanks.            Under
            the stalled sky, Philadelphia rain.

A two-pronged logo on the freight train
            passing over the track above: F with its strong

horizons leaning against the summit of A.
            Before my headlong plummet into the maw

of myself I acquire a kind of grace—
anchor                        doorstop            claw.

Happy to be going anyplace, all reasons for travel
            point to the promise of love.