Philip Levine mingles
in a baseball cap before his reading,
looking like he’s there for Grand Friends’ Day
at Moses Brown.

An amiable urbanite,
he takes his time
and patiently fills us in.

His hands are dirty
but his clothes are clean,
and he doesn’t shy away
from too much, like saying
what love is
from the perspective of a nautilus
or a juicy ornge.

Trust me.
That’s ear spelling.

He hears poetry in the spoken word
and the shipping records
of the last century.

We’re glad he’s well and
loves our words
our whole country of words
so fruitful.