by Judy Katz-Levine
You're a forgiving cypress,
write songs named after our arguments.
We peel the mango in sultry twilight.
Lips before a thunderstorm.
Comes tomorrow, a door opens.
Luminous text-faces speak.
The caring moment after the operation -
that happened a year ago.
The luminous flesh of the mango.
There's a voice inside my voice.
It comes when no one watches.
An August tango remembers.
It was a year ago, and the operation lingers
in its effects.
Once we were taking our son to the rotating tire
at the playground.
Now he's peeling mangos for us.
* * * * *
"August Tango" is from Judy Katz-Levine's new book , was first published in Ekleksographia.
Judy Katz-Levine's new book, , has just been published by Word Press (available on Amazon). Of the book, the publisher says "The Everything Saint shows us the holy in the ordinary, and Judy Katz-Levine is a faithful guide to such wonders." Her recent poetry and translations have appeared in Writing In A Woman's Voice, Miriam's Well, Salamander, Blue Unicorn, Ibbetson Street, Event Horizon, Peacock Journal, and many other venues. Also a jazz flutist, she enjoys playing at jam sessions.