May 25, 2011
We are going to serve a late lunch
For a few close friends in the garden.
We’ll start with a cold squid salad,
A pot of black and green olives,
And a loaf of homemade bread to wipe
The garlic and the oil off our plates
Between the sips of the yellow wine.
And if some bird graciously assents
To sing for us after the grilled lamb,
The cheeses and the wild blueberries,
We’ll raise our glasses and toast
The golden light between the leaves,
The shadows on the lawn lengthening,
And keep them raised till the song is over.