Sweet Lorraine

You built your house well, shading it
from the eastern sun, shielding it
from the West Wind, making it
impregnable, you

grow lilies and quaint tropical plants in
window boxes to thwart the insects
that dance there and fill your nights
with the warm candle smoke of the South.

I found you beyond your fortress tossed
on a hill in a weak moment and
talked of trade and barter, concrete
waters where you swam safely, then

I penetrated your shell boat, you
filled with water and sank
like a stone. I
hammered the For Sale sign into your garden with
a mallet of jade


--30-- Montreal, June 1968