[poem temporarily removed by author]

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1. THE PORTRAIT

   My endlessly tattling nieta asks:
   “Who is that old woman on the wall, abuelo?
   Why does she follow me wherever I go?”

   I have always meant to dust it off,
   this picture on the wall: a patrician pose,
   an arching neck, a hint of a shy smile.

   “No one you know. But sing me another song,
   that one about a new song unto the world.
   How does that go again? Sing a new song.”

   “Her eyes are sad, and they always follow me.
   Why does she do that, abuelo. Is she lonely?
   And she has a funny-looking dress. Tra-la, lala.”

   But that was another time. Another world.
   At sundown I look into those eyes, and I go there,
   beside her, and sing old songs. O, the old songs!

   The late spring wind ruffles the gossamer curtains
   that brush against the jangling chime bells: outside
   the wind has no regard for our little nostalgias.

   —Albert B. Casuga
   04-22-11

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