Sara
A smear of pink yellow purple
Garden in the rain
Makes it impossible to be
Awake and quiet
My mind full of memory
Sailing at dawn past Sicily
That summer
My aunt with her sly smile
Is eighty today
My distant family gathers
Like the ancient Roman senate
A forum of disconnection
As we sip wine and pretend
To enjoy chicken and fish
Marcie reminds me
The wind and rain erase it all
Except the image of my high buttoned
Grandmother standing in the garden
Sun on the azaleas
Her daughter Sara
Smiling like the Mona Lisa
--Jack 3/28/'09
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