Poem by Olive Harschar
Calling you an enigma was only part of it,
For seeing you now, and knowing you
With all your masks down, and you alone standing there
Saying "I'm cold, --get me my shirt---my sweater,---
And of course, light me a cigarette, and pour
Some hot tea for your esteemed presence.
But I gave you gladly, without reservation---
What your solid flesh demands, --knowing that Knighthood
Was given to no-one like YOU!
Your unexpected visit had nothing to do
With your unusual relationship with me.
It was the great expansive stretch of windows
In my apartment that prompted you to call.
For you were equipped with your instruments
To witness the eclipse, that never appeared.
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