Azalea

I can still hear her voicetalking about them, bloominglike a bright gentle flowerfrom the bushes along the greens and fairwayssweet and slow as asouthern afternoon, spiced uplike the wine-soaked pork chopsand etouffet she loved to make I can still feel her hands,floral with lotion and softas butterfly’s wings, plusalmost as fragile,navigating the click ofknitting needlesContinue reading “Azalea”

A Pair of Italian Sonnets

Pristine Sistine: at the Vatican I walked and walked through halls of wondertil at last I reached the endwhere God’s own voice resounds like thunderfrom images well known as friends In awe beneath that gorgeous ceilingsequestered as a holy choiceoverwhelmed with thoughts and feelingsbrought back to earth by recorded noise Quiet! and No pictures, please!LoudlyContinue reading “A Pair of Italian Sonnets”