________________________________



​IN THE YARD, WITH MARY




We speak of the moon,
and the clouds coming to cover it,
the trees bending with the wind,


the loveliness of the night.
We speak, and there is silence between us,
too, the spark arc'd across forty-five years


which does not need words.
The wind brings in those clouds now.
The clouds are bringing rain.


We gather ourselves into the house.
To sleep. To dream. To go on
loving this life we lead.


______________________








______________________

FROM THE VALLEY


nothing
but the mountains


and -- this evening --
the moon.


______________________