(to Anne, 8-8-88)
The days outside surpassed the ones in
by miles.
Blue clouds nodded in a field
of white sky, an oak flew away full of grackles.
Breezes, gathered at the neighbors’
back yards, whispered in
the hung-out sheets, sighed among the blouses.
So if I promised to call you and didn’t, you can
say I lied. I was outside listening for clues,
I was chasing down black birds & flying oaks.
I was outside,
I confess, I was outside
all day in the service of one dull vase
on a common table in a colorless room.
Flower-picking by Clark Holtzman | Pink Peony Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
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