Issue 4 – Swist

Wally Swist

Another Poem about the Moon

for Jack Gilbert and Linda Greg

More than twenty years ago now, and the memory
Still shimmers within me of that late evening

And early morning, the candles that Linda lit
To accompany our tea and biscotti flickering

Between us; our resolute conversation regarding
American poetry, the world order, and the crystal

That life is itself. However, what served
As its own denouement was the delight they both

Shared openly in front of their spontaneous guest,
Sometimes behaving as if I weren’t there at all—

Their previous incarnations with each other
Going on at once: teacher, student, spouse,

Friends for life. Then Linda getting up to bring
Our empty cups and plates over to the wide porcelain

Sink, and pausing before speaking, beginning
Breathlessly, Oh, Jack, and turning around from

The semi-darkness, with her beatific face, haloed by
The mane of blonde hair, conjuring the immemorial

Magic to raise up what shines in him, There’s something
I want you to see. I’ve written another poem about the moon.