Souvenirs

The World in my Apartment:

a coffee mug with Haida fish

a Grecian vase and soapstone Inuit owl

Laura’s black pot from the Fraser delta

two perfectly spherical stones
from the Capilano river

another (flat) stone
picked from the ground at Wounded Knee

my guitar
leaning against the wall
with a capo on the third fret
and souvenir buttons on the strap:
Graceland
Grand ol’ Opry
Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame
(to name a few)

a photograph of my father
as a young man in India
in the uniform of the Royal Air Force

trilobites from Ontario

my Mexican blanket with the Mitla motif

six pieces of charred paper blown from the
World Trade Center on 9/11
and picked off the streets of Brooklyn

photographs of Lake Louise

The ginkgoes of Brooklyn

This is a poem written some years ago upon the approach of winter.
As the ginkgo leaves turn yellow, and the nuts drop, Chinese women used to appear and gather the nuts up — not part of the poem, but interesting to recall. I thought of this poem while noticing the yellowing ginkgoes the other day during a walk around Brooklyn Heights.

AUTUMN_BROOKLYN