Memories of Rhinelander

King Robert fills up the room

With windy sighs

With lover’s groans

Then setting pen to paper says:

This is good time.

And like obedient children in school

We try to write.

He writes we write—

Can we possibly be wrong?

We scrutinize the lake

Water lilies with umbilical stems

Descending into muck.

We enter into unspoken thought.

Our auras grow large

The room is all aglow

We brighten like a fire

When fanned by a breeze.

We see ripples on the lake

Hear lapping on the shore

A good time—a sweet time

To give and to take.

We read our small efforts aloud

Our words tremble through the air.

What will he say?

We had all come a long way

To hear what Robert will say.