William Lantry

	"... marked up
	for memory's sake
	to be credible
	in their deeds."

	--W.C.W.

except I miss the morning
glories, profuse
in other summers,
their brilliance matching
a distant shore's curving
luxury.

My two by eights
had been Mary's
deck, still bore
rusted spikes my hammer
could not release,
but dug in they seemed
to serve and held
crosslaterals in place.

My father would
have countersunk
long bolts, holding
the whole thing
together in
any storm,
but for morning
glories at a rented
house this would do...

and did, for several
months, each morning
Canterbury bells
competed with last
night's moonflowers
and the whole
had a shaky grace when
seen at noon,
from the bench it shaded
(a slab of bluestone
hauled across state lines)
and set off the green
copper god cast
by a woman who knew
her art.