If Briefly

Sometimes in time’s near unassailable sangfroid there is a thawing & the memory asserts its musicality again reminds one that it is at heart heart’s artificer *     *     * Somewhere in Okinawa there are stairs “My husband is the only constant in” are concrete stairs that lead one (or at least led me, age six) near straight from top to bottom of a cliff face & they ended in a black-sand beach “the only constant in my life. When I was young I would have thought I would regret it, to have wrapped myself up like a caterpillar in a man—but if my name, like his, is Vogelsang, then I must half recede with him