We present this work in honor of the 20th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

When she poured coffee it was
with such purity that we ached
with awe,
which is not to say
we admired
her.

Her frescoed hand supported
a china cup while
cream curled
from a silver spout.

Do you take sugar?
she inquired,
measire it out,
rarified as myrrh.

But we were comforted
because
as we turned away,
she moved her stenciled jaw,
shaping the smallest, faintest smile
in all that world.