opera tutu

You said two words, rocks
and tree

I heard, Cézanne and zen, and thought
of a hill in France

and the argument in the patisserie
didn’t matter any more

I have bread
not cake

the lines on the brow of the hill
wrinkle encouragingly

beers and bears
support me now

and in Bilbao Sumi Jo
sings to her Yankee captain

from every frame in every plane
tears flow