Two Poems

Contrails

Often at dusk they seem almost
         to intersect—
To linger there against the ghost
         of evening, set

With pearl, inlaid upon the night.
         Imagine how
It seems inside—the cabin bright,
         the window, now

Opaque, that looks but cannot see
         the trailing band
Dissolve into uncertainty
         from where you stand.

 

Duration

Still there, in the inside pocket
         of an old coat
Left in the closet—a locket,
         a five-franc note,

A subway token. Things not missed
         in all that time
Resurface now, like a last kiss
         or a lost rhyme.

They remind you of that river
         not entered twice;
Moments that seemed gone forever
         break through the ice.