Transference

New paint on an old door is a sly trick.

Wait for a sunny day, and then

Wave the brush in your hand up and down as a signalman does--

The train will be coming through...

That is the only certain thing.



Set your can of color on a newspaper,

And both in the morning sun.

If you see, beyond its silver rim, that someone you know

Has died or gotten married,

Or discussed your heart in an interview,



Remember that this job will take many coats,

And each will have to dry before starting on the next.

In the meantime,

As you sip tea on the steps and read further, out of boredom,

Don't be surprised at the ink that stays on your fingers,

Or the paint that remains on the page.

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