Navigation

2 Poems

To a Friend, in the Hospital,
Has just had his Knee Replaced

The things that have marked our
Friendship: long walks in Naples,
Barcelona, Lisbon. Strolls on
The Riviera, the beach at Cannes.
Climbing the hills of Rome and
Gaudi’s Sagrada tower. Will we
Do these things again – you with
Your old will and your new knee?
Such are the wonders of the universe
And of modern medicine. The world no
Longer out of joints; hospitals full
Of spare parts. I know that you will
Never replace me. Our friendship is
Too fast. And you, irreplaceable – totally.

Something

The something that lives under my
Porch is on the move again. I think
I heard last autumn’s leaves rustle
There, under its weight, as it
Crawled or dragged itself toward
The cold light. It comes, it seems,

Only at night to eat the food that
I put out each day. The testimony
Of the empty bowl lends further
Credence to its being there, or
Having been. Though I never
Seen the beast, nor do I care to

Know from where it came, or why.
And therefore cannot say, or dare.