It is winter in this picture And you are the fire you have built for them Here in this picture it is summer You are a paper fan spread open A dime store piece of chinoiserie They, never suspecting are cooled The secret of fanning is to keep on. In the next picture, the one here You are the sun at any time of day You are the night, all night long The dawn, 3:45 a.m. It does not matter You are all of them over and again. On vellum cards in Times Roman or Gothic Bold They'd say the honor of your presence is requested Now you laugh If you only had a vellum card for all the times You were there and your presence was all That mattered. Look, in this one you are The kitchen with all the right appliances The first stone in the stone path In India the bullock which turns the wheel Which pulls the barges up the canal. Turn the page A new picture now In this you are a piano Whose keys when touched Sustain the melody Of the whole work. And the last page One more picture, the newest one You are the boat which has set sail The kite which soars high among clouds Shaped like fire which is shaped like Fans and stones and the sound Of new music.