200,000 rhododendron blossoms I estimate
By multiplying the number seen
Through one pane of the “colonial” windowglass.
And I had wanted to show Rose Marie
A hummingbird, a most un-Silesian
Apparition: so she assures me.
Certainly one will come soon, I said.
Now the petals are almost gone,
Blown away like thoughts not written down,
And no hummingbird has visited us.
Probably they are becoming extinct.
The birches in front of the cottage
Bow like lissom queens at the emperor’s court.
To whom? To me naturally.
My German is awful, nine words mispronounced.
But a splendid language for bellowing.
When I find Tanio snoozing in a coil
Among my manuscripts, “Herauf!”
I proclaim, striking the air with my
Finger, “Herein, mein Herr Schlaffener!”
Nothing whatever happens. Tanio opens
One eye. “Kätze, was für hast du
Eine Attituden so gestinken!”
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