Desire to Fly

Just once,
to be that bird
broad-winged and strong enough
to cross the inner sea behind
your eyes.

Remembrance

Kiln-blue,
heather-scented ---
your eyes and hair brought spring
to an empty desert, the place
I lived.

Two Kinds of Truth

Foolish,
having thought love
would keep us warm: I chop wood
for the winter, while you sleep late
in Rome.