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Willi, Home

                                       In memory

Last night, just before sleep, this: a bright
lying in bed, with the sheet pulled up to its chin.
Willi, did I ever know you? The shine
in the lamplight!      of your intelligent glasses,
round and humorous.
Did I ever know myself? When I
start bullshitting I see your eyebrows fly . . . This book
is dedicated to Willi,
whom I do not know,

whom I know. The words in my head
this morning
(these words came from an angel):
“It’s too late to say goodbye.
And there are never enough goodbyes.”
I know: the daffodil
is me. Brave. Willi’s an iris. Brave.
Brave. Tall. Home. Deep. Blue.

Door in the Mountain: New & Collected Poems