There may be a picture of
Seraphim sitting in the kitchen
With my father, everyone looks serious.
One, grasping a glass of hot tea
Leans forward, the fingers
Of his left hand flung wide;
He is explaining they may
Leave abruptly since they exist
Provisionally. Or perhaps there's
A poem or a barely-intelligible tape
Or no record that the meeting
Ever took place.
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