I hear a river thro’ the valley wander
Whose water runs, the song alone remaining.
A rainbow stands and summer passes under,

The house is humming with many lives today.
Too drowsy even for a slice of apple
or her own glass of wine, she prepares

Beginning as usual in the dark
well of an expensive late-night taxi,
you recall this scene; your father rushes

talked to my father again a dream he seemed happy
perhaps a little older than the last time       told me
he had discovered something called “le jazz hot” 

inside my mother
i make a little fist
& then i punch her

We were descending, and sounds rushed
into the now-opened portal to the eardrum:
the shudder of the jet powering back, suddenly.

In the first half-light of the morning the farmer turns toward
                                                       the window
Besides which he sleeps; through which he sees his fields

The seed of their trouble also began in an apple;
That, knowing good and evil, posed for them a choice
                                                     between goods.

Now shut, closed, taken their life deeply back into themselves‚
Looking out from the cliff over the barren oneness of the sea—
Those cabins that have served as the boards of a stage 

Hermes strapped the beautiful sandals onto his feet,
Immortal, made of gold, which bore him across the wet seas
And endless expanses of land as swift as the breath of the wind.