•
9
In the Gathering Heat . . . in this interval of cool air before the sun flashes its bald stare I lie down in the grass beneath the trees, and it’s so green in the shade, so quiet a stir of barely wind, just breath in the higher branches and a tanager finally here (if late, very late I thought it might not make it back this year) breaks into throaty song, and I exhale gratefully— delay the lover’s strategy and 2020
