Return to Paros
Up the mountain again three years later,
rocking forward like a burro.
Breathing hard in and out.
Up the mountain again three years later,
rocking forward like a burro.
Breathing hard in and out.
The woman is preparing her body for sleep.
She hangs the hair forward
and it almost touches her feet.
As long as I struggle to float above the ground
and fail, there is reason for this poetry.
On the stone back of the Ludovici throne, Venus
The square stone room makes a shape in the air
to rest inside. A form for holding what is loved
beyond naming. With gratitude and reverence