Jardin des Plantes   The ruined summer’s lush despondency, Arrested, Tennysonian…Late afternoon Grows fog from all-day rain. Did we have prospects, once? We are the characters we’ve read about, Provincial and enraged At waking up to find we’re dead. In the insanitary capitals Grim functionaries glare Across the sodden parks As the invasion is delayed, … Continue reading Three Poems