Legion of Honor
It's wrapped in coastal winds and cypress trees,
  With lions guarding entrance to the court.
  Inside, they serve up tea and apricot tarts,
Between glass clad in mist from neighboring seas.
Degas' love of Parisian millinery
  Ripples among the walls of light and dark:
  Illuminated portraits, girls in sharp
Well-flowered, feathered hats in velvet sheen.
Around the corner, see a more ancient hall:
  An ibis-headed man in frozen gait,
Cartouche and hieroglyphics on a wall,

A Letter: On A Morning, One Week After You Left
The garden's fence was dressed in morning glory.
One liverwort's crescent held its last gemma.
A cruciform blossom evoked the trilemma -
How can that Soul be sent to Upper Story?
The dampened soil was fresh with petrichor
(Which I discovered when the rain had stopped
Its long unceasing murmur; up I propped
The window in that room of vellichor
You always sit to read in when you come).
Beyond the fence, dew-dropped viridity
Was dancing on the spring-leaves of the Plum