Poem of the Month

Having Once Heard Milosz

Though we can’t remember at which hall or chamber

he spoke and read, we recall the nickname given

out of deference to his art—Cheesecake Meatloaf.

The circuitous nature of his poem “Realism”

employs images of food: a half peeled lemon,/

Walnuts, a loaf of bread.  I want to be one

of the tiny figures/skating on the lake

in a painting by an old Dutch master. 

We’ve come to the waltz of elder-years.

Having read that Realism is eternal, I long

for the Yakima to freeze. If this is a prayer,

let it recall childhood winters spent in Greenbelt.

I wore the yellow wool and you the blue pea coat.

We moved together, pushing one another in figure eights.