—after Robert Hass’ poem After Trakl
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Afternoon breeze, the ash tree goes untouched.
I reach for sunlight, but it catches me instead
—my love speaks to me from another room—
but I am caught by sunlight I cannot reach.
Afternoon breeze, the ash tree goes untouched.
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Clouds in shreds pull a shroud over budding trees.
Daffodils burst open, try to lift my spirit
—a car alarm repeats a single shrill note—
trying to lift my spirit, somehow daffodils burst open.
Clouds in shreds pull shrouds over budding trees.

Do they shiver, these mulberry branches, or wave?
The temperature drops so slowly no one notices
—the book I’ve been reading falls closed on the table—
no one notices as the temperature drops, so slowly.
Do they shiver, these mulberry branches, or wave?

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