It’s no longer grand opera.
No cause for stabbing, for poisoning,
for launching a thousand ships.
It’s not even Faust with giant puppets
sinking to the ground somewhere in Utah.
But it may be a puppet show
with tidy curtains, a box to keep
everything safely in place.
Or TV with the sound off
so that you seem to understand everything.
Or the other end of the telescope, where you see
each small detail so clear and precise,
like a picture puzzle with all the pieces there.
Cheryl Caesar lived in Paris, Tuscany and Sligo for 25 years; she earned her doctorate in comparative literature at the Sorbonne and taught literature and phonetics. She now teaches writing at Michigan State University. She gives readings locally and has published poems in Writers Resist and The Mark Literary Review; and Poetry Leaves (forthcoming).