Consolation I don't know in the world's great house we were raised in different rooms maybe and passed on stairways you along the wall me already more than half way over the railing Was it then we began sending each other pictures? I was wearing the shirt you made me The way the sun was you couldn't see my eyes or so you say I remember the far edge of the garden when you turned toward me There above your outstretched arm the jacaranda lifting its pale architecture Oregon you say now you'd go that far For the children And tell me I can have what's left of the beerglasses these four tin plates equitable distribution according to the laws of California You slam the trunk lid twice calling me poet po-et like that again but delicately assure me God will bless all those who sail in me before you drive away William Timberman |