After a
day swimming in the lake at Patchogue
My mother
would hear her father’s car horn;
She’d
climb on the running board and ride home
Clinging
to the car. What model was it, I wonder;
How far
did they go? Did they talk on the way?
Did she close
her eyes and listen to the wind
Or did
she watch the world flowing by?
How easy
it would have been to ask her!
My
father’s mother when she was young
Danced by
some river in Galicia.
There was
an emperor then: Franz-Joseph
She
rather liked him. I imagine it must be something
To have
an emperor. Perhaps you feel sorry for folk
In
ordinary countries, who have only a king
Or the
poor people who must get by
With an
archduke, an elector, a president.
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