3/16/97
7:20a.m.

3/224/97

Vata likes a floral skirt
that sways so lovely
comin’ in the room

She like her tea
and toast with honey
in the late day

She needs her freedom
her independence of minds

Vata loves to be kissed (3/29/97)

(4/10/97)
Vata has a thing
for table linens
and, of course, she
likes a bit of variety
now and then a bright pink

Lately she has unexpectedly
been drawn to a Ralph Lauren
blue stripe
a classic piece of cloth
with an enduring appeal

This morning florals occurs
to her,as though she has
ciscovered Venus
and she finds she cannot
account for the plaid
that has crept into
her life.

She always sens
her mother-in-law
table linens
when really she would
like them for herself.

Vata has been whipped
senseless
by her world
and its demands
so that she has to
surrender to what
might seem
an unreasonable
deliberation
between rice milk
or apple sauce
in her oatmeal.

Finally Vata
sits down to eat
appreciating the (contour,shape)
of the hand made bowl
in her palms,
the multitude of patterns
in the patchwork placemat
it sits upon.

Vata likes to dance
she likes to feel
the movement
of her skirt
against her calves.

Vata likes Vivaldi
especially around 4 p.m.
when a gentle light
streaming through the back door
casts the pepper trees pattern
upon the kitchen floor
and she is dancing gaily
toward the kettle
for her Vata tea

Vata is a little girl
lying upon the summer
the soft, soft grass
watching the cumulus clouds
drift past