Bath

The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is

a smell of tulips and narcissus

in the air.

The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and

bores through the water

in the bath-tub in lathes and planes of greenish-white. It

cleaves the water

into flaws like a jewel, and cracks it to bright light.

Little spots of sunshine lie on the surface of

the water and dance, dance,

and their reflections wobble deliciously over the ceiling; a stir

of my finger

sets them whirring, reeling. I move a foot, and the planes

of light

in the water jar. I lie back and laugh, and let the green-white

water,

the sun-flawed beryl water, flow over me. The day is

almost

too bright to bear, the green water covers me from the too bright

day.

I will lie here awhile and play with the water and the sun spots.

The sky is blue and high. A crow flaps

by the window, and there is

a whiff of tulips and narcissus in the air.

Breakfast Table

In the fresh-washed sunlight, the breakfast table

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