with sun-drenched memories, my sentimental friend
only decades away, a piano solo album circling
(with a wakefulness close to highnoon dreaming),
i do my little tricks slowing time down
one is sitting in my garden reading clouds,
two, all those reverberations
of non-stop traffic on Redding Road
(once upon a time, but now and now again),
another one, from cave to cave, Mr. Hersch
in Lugano.