Poems For "Barry"—The Next Two

When meeting when
Touching shirtsleeves in a
Bustling hallway when in
The movement of my
Skirt and he smiles at another
Man and when I read
Or the footsteps track behind
Me and when
I fumble for your
Name like the melting ice of
Last February when the
Desert or the snow falls
On some refugee camp when
Some son of a
Soldier walks the rippled
Paths along Monte Cassino
When in
A moment of multiple
Epiphanies I either realize
Or remember and
Smooth my skirt and
Duck my head, quoting
Rilke to your
Fleeting back and when
The World decides
That is has had enough of
Madness and when
The halls Clear:
I open a book
You speak

O Faulkner!
How I may invoke every literary
Deity from here to
William Blake and still i
Am given to bouts
Of recurring inadequacy
Like a disease making
An old friend of
You may be like
Faulkner. Not like Rilke, nor
Goethe, or even the
Difference in regional connotation
I can imagine
Touching our hand and your
Face and Knowing
Your name. O that above
All invocation! O that.