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Next Issue Peter Scupham at 85: a celebration Contributions by Anne Stevenson, Robert Wells, Peter Davidson, Lawrence Sail

This poem is taken from PN Review 3, Volume 4 Number 3, April - June 1978.

Occasional Uncles Timothy Dekin

1.
So warm we opened up the house today.
The lilacs had come out. I named and took
Lupine and ferns, a blue flower with a white
Eye in its pit-Brunnera in the book.

We worked together. Face to face, we washed
The cabin windows, rubbing contrariwise.
Cutting through weather, grease, we made almost
Invisible the glass between our lives.

The woods grew quiet and the sun slowed down.
Silent and thoughtless, with nothing to resist,
We were healing, and didn't try to talk.
I saw, heavy with light upon my wrist,

Each hair swing slowly with my polishing.
Then drawn by forces I cannot describe,
Lifted from being over redwood plains,
Through burning glass, I entered your dark eyes.
...


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