On the night train
through that foreign land
I waver once
glimpsing
a lit farm kitchen

At take-off
the metal wing
motionless
and my hometown reeling
far below

Feverish
in a hotel room
I watch her climb
breast to the night clouds
¾that travelling moon

 
 
 
 
 
Night falls
& the Nam vet
with his camera
prowls the campground
snapping rabbits

Several languages
and a thousand theorems
safe in his cranium
how serene my father
looks in death

In a ruined orchard
among drenched leaves
I found you these
mist-silvered
fat blue plums