In moments between the escapes
of obligation, cracks of reflection
open and pass. The bold cock
that cost so much is mislaid, where
forgot. An expansive rose
displays the familiar theme
in a strawberry ring
when you look at it just so,
head on. The goldfinches
have fluttered in, harbingers
of virtual perigrination
bringing strange designs, new
variety to your door: on the stoop
a pale garland, the herons,
the marsh. The box need not retain
the evidence of sin
less sinful in its time.

for Karen
12 Jan 99

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