You came to visit my house for the first time,
after a harrowing 3 hr bridge game.
I waited at Bell House,
admiring an old tree
and reading poems
until I realized you were about to call

You refused offers of water, tea, coffee
and food. You played Claire de Lune
and Blue Moon on the piano
and sang from my Mother’s
80 year old “Timothy’s Tunes”

You listened to Goldie and I read our poetry aloud
and doted on my cat;
how proud she is, how sweet the way she
taps you on the arm with her paw
as if to say, “Hey, now! A little something for the beauty”

I gave you a card,
a picture of Martha Graham’s Letter to the World,
Goldie’s book and a print of Climax Springs
for your 89th birthday four days ago,
you said it reminded you
of the Berkshires in Amherst

Just before your turn, after I drove you
nearly all the way home,
a green traffic light’s guts dangled over an intersection.
Two traffic security officers and two cops
redirected streams of oppositely flowing traffic
through the Clark’s Pump and Shop parking lot

As I dropped you off
you said you had enjoyed the salon day.
I thought you were referring to Paris,
Gertrude Stein, artists sitting around
sharing music, poetry, paintings, prose

it was hours later when I remembered
I had also tidied up the back of your
DIY Amelie haircut
with a few small snips