For Jack, 1963

 

watching the President speak from the Rose Garden today

I thought of you

and that long ago spring day in Washington.

 

we too were scheduled to meet in the Rose Garden—

April rain forced us into the Oval Office.

we stood before a bank of popping flash bulbs

little suns exploding in the damp ephemeral air.

 

the press made up what everyone said

and I scared myself and the Secret Service

by following you into your little private office

to get your autograph

 

you weren't scared—

 

 

 

outside the streets were strewn with cherry blossoms

trees blowing the floating world—

the changing world—out

with their breath.