POEMS/ To Treetops, Sparkill, N.Y
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To Treetops, Sparkill, N.Y.
Have you forgotten us,
who gave you your first
face-lift, a fresh new look,
and showed you how your world
had changed? You had a shabby
elegance, lofty doors
and windows, dark green
shutters stately and forbidding,
proud Victorian matron,
hiding your crumbling foundation
with a skirt of violets and myrtle,
your slated mansard bonnet decked
with offerings from tulip trees
and oaks. Without us, would you
have seen your shabby servants’
quarters transformed to rain-
bowed rooms with swinging
beds and jungle-painted bath?
Without us would you have shed
the faded rose and ivy
on your walls, heard the notes
of trumpet or bassoon or flute,
seen the host of children
sledding on your sloping hill?
Without us, would you have lived
to notice, from the window
at your peak, smoke on the horizon
stretching to the south beyond
your sheltered fields and woods,
have watched the plans fly in and crash,
have seen the pair of shining towers
as they burned and fell?
From Migrations, 2013
Have you forgotten us,
who gave you your first
face-lift, a fresh new look,
and showed you how your world
had changed? You had a shabby
elegance, lofty doors
and windows, dark green
shutters stately and forbidding,
proud Victorian matron,
hiding your crumbling foundation
with a skirt of violets and myrtle,
your slated mansard bonnet decked
with offerings from tulip trees
and oaks. Without us, would you
have seen your shabby servants’
quarters transformed to rain-
bowed rooms with swinging
beds and jungle-painted bath?
Without us would you have shed
the faded rose and ivy
on your walls, heard the notes
of trumpet or bassoon or flute,
seen the host of children
sledding on your sloping hill?
Without us, would you have lived
to notice, from the window
at your peak, smoke on the horizon
stretching to the south beyond
your sheltered fields and woods,
have watched the plans fly in and crash,
have seen the pair of shining towers
as they burned and fell?
From Migrations, 2013
