for May Sarton
Now calculation is the door into regret
concealing our apology,
the delay in answering a friend's call,
his message no longer a delay, a caesura, you could say.
No more it's sorry not to answer right away,
if you say I've been meaning to get in touch
the dispute goes past apology to dismay.
Jamais de ma vie you want to say, waiting to smell
the food you're making three rooms away.
You'll eat when you smell it you (smile and) think,
let your friends be themselves, in their tardy way.