she said the whole of it was metaphor....I said it wasn't.....
refine, I said...reconstrue......it wasn't his way to be other than interspersant ....
we left it at that........each unconvinced....
(I still believe.I was) either (right) ...or wrong.....as was she......I haven't visited the interment place in years.....pinkish marble.....(not the way she'd have spent the money...but it was no longer her party)
she'd laugh to hear me call it an intermissionary position.....
..........she was funny....me, funnier.....and righter...... ')
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem