For Jon

when we were little
i wanted to plant lollipops
by the stairs outside
then you would find them
and pick them like flowers
and bring them home
and show mom...

For Leslie

A tortoiseshell cat
On a Christmas quilt
Is just a memory
This October day
When the leaves
Are beginning
To sprinkle
The grey sidewalks
Yellow and green
Ovals that look
Like non-pareils
When I don't wear
My glasses

You made the quilt
One autumn
As a sign
That I was still family
I later hung it
On the wall
Like a twelve foot painting
And now the formerly homeless
Cat sits on my knee,
Teeter-tottering,
Accepting my caresses
As her right

If you feel
As you read this
Some kind of mourning
I must explain
My sadness doesn’t reach
Very far into me
Instead of a feeling inside
That wells up
To where you can see it
In the way I take naps
Or stare out the window
Or wipe tears so they won't
Make paths in my rouge
Instead it's like a cloud
Covering the sun
For a moment
And then blowing on
Across the sky

Mom’s Visit

what is so mortal
as a girl skating,
as i might,
forgetting
that her mother
wants her home?

trucks jangle
and whistle
and honk

standing at a distance,
she would brush
and braid my hair,
saying, "come closer"

i can’t hear her now
what with the street noise and all

and squint as i might
against the light
i see only
the negligent skater

For Allie

Knit and purl, knit and purl:
Knit a scarf for a beautiful girl.
Green for her eyes?
No: pink for her heart....
It could be a Valentine or a birthday present;
But I choose instead an Un-day for presentment!

Integrity
for Mom

your secret voice
blooms in my heart
like a flower
called angel's tongue
whose incense
only i can smell
i shall never
spread word of it
though i’ll burn
that incense
ever
my people
won't know of it
for they
have their own
secrets
their own
clandestine angels
for what have we
but our secrets
and our knowledge
that others
have their secrets
i look at their mum faces
without seeing
their hidden thoughts
but i see
that they are
hiding thoughts
and rest
in that integrity

In Wisconsin

a frame cabin
painted, painted red

dreams of visits there
occupied my wintry youth

it all comes back
to me now

maps on the walls
in place of wallpaper

the dining room a picnic table
covered with a linoleum tablecloth

upstairs five beds for seven children
dressers filled with comic books

from the window by my bed
I could see the lake

next door
grandma and grandpa's yellow cottage

dad and his brothers
built it after world war two

my mother cooking fish
for breakfast

my father went out fishing
at sunrise

For Kris

After Christmas is over
And the New Year
Has not quite begun
I think of you
Swirls of snow puffs
Circling, catching rays
Of glimmer around you
Your wool scarf
Starched with pinpoints
Of light: my sister
Whose birthday falls
In this between-time
When it's quiet
Here in New York
And I think
How we have
Traded scenarios
You a mother,
Happy
And me
The brave city dweller

A Young Friend

my little pal
you would reach up
your hand stretched out
to grab mine

now, some few years later,
I reach up
to put my arm
around your shoulder
for a hug

the eyes are the same
laughing blue

the soul is the same
ever loyal and true

For Dad

It is spring in Georgia, today.
Daffodils wreathe the hillside
Making the path down to the lake
A yellow crown, greenery draping.
Here in New York
The sun shines and shines.
Broad eastern windows
Let the light in. And that is how
Simple life is today, golden
For me and glorious for you,
My friend, my wise one,
More truly you than we can know,
Your children, born in light.