if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have
one.It will not be a pansy heaven nor
a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
it will be a heaven of blackred rosesmy father will be(deep like a rose
tall like a rose)standing near my(swaying over her
silent)
with eyes which are really petals and seenothing with the face of a poet really which
is a flower and not a face with
hands
which whisper
This is my beloved my(suddenly in sunlighthe will bow,& the whole garden will bow)