To Mark Anthony in Heaven
This quiet morning light
reflected, how many times
from grass and tress and clouds
enters my north room
touching the walls with
grass and clouds and trees.
Anthony,
trees and grass and clouds.
Why did you follow
that beloved body
with your ships at Actium?
I hope it was because
you knew her inch by inch
from slanting feet upward
to the roots of her hair
and down again and that
you saw her
above the battle’s fury ——
clouds and trees and grass ——
For then you are
listening in heaven.
