Max Michelson

From “Winds of March”

YOU carry the dishes in your hands

But your thoughts are elsewhere:

As if you inwardly knew

That in your kisses is the glow

Of Sobietsky and the heroes;

That your body has the pungent taste

Which the willow-tree and the rose

Perhaps feel in the soil;

And that your hair carries the fragrance

Of the willow and the rose itself.