master of the hunt

so many buttons

reading, reflecting, the usual rigmarole


onto Red Square

turned his back to the lilacs

the rudeness awaited

of a belfry

window the size of a chessboard

doleful eight

a great conniving

on the docks of Peterhof

‘must learn to say goodbye’

father’s twice tolling clock


the lip of the fountain

the pages of Montaigne

a sixty-year old Greek

doleful impermanence of circumstances

by all means

cornmeal, cauliflower

shaved a Ukrainian hair

his hands