ghazals
from the tub
after
dawn, i want to bathe,
and climb into the cedar-sweet water.
yesterday
the tulip twigs were full of springlight
overhead, today it's fog and the new leaves.
the
fog carries jasmine across the garden
in little drops of perfume for my hair.
the
ice-gray broccoli evades my clippers
with a cloud of yellow blooms.
the
fog will be gone by twelve,
we'll have flowers for lunch.
Judith
Bishop