We present this work in honor of the poet’s 120th birthday.

 

Looking over toward London, the slim
Straight lines of light from the lamps along the river
Meticulously made,
Most classically shadowed there, a prim
Silver colonnade.

But up the stream a glowing faery isle
And clustered lights all ravishingly quiver
(Where in the daytime seas
Wash wearily about the power-house, while
The heart is ill at ease).

And a little boat with lights green, yellow and red,
Is turned into a magical Chinese
Duck, whose long wake is
A right-triangle, far past the imagined
Island’s isosceles.