Elizabeth Smither

Cecilia Bartoli sings in the living room.
The brandy balloon with its brandy and milk
invites the reverent handling of a chalice.

O clear alchemic warbling as if
a soul might tug on a string and stay
glass empty of its libation and milky.

Over the white bedcover and sheets comes
the idea of angel wings, the force
of heavenly persuasion, the escape

through so many competing jostling atoms
the path opening at your feet, the few scratches
your bewildered subdued voice on the phone.

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Last updated 11 May 2001