Two Poems
by
Jill Hoffman
MOTHER-Of-PEARL
The fountain in her courtyard resurrected
a marble girl I believed had drowned,
Bella, who married Max when she was sixteen
and was mistaken once for his mother.
At eight she supported a family.
She was beautiful, though her stomach rolled
over, and one toe. I was ashamed at Jones
Beach when the chi ldren looked in the window
at us naked together, taking a shower.
For years she came back as Dolly, and went away
again, never having heard that my grandfather
remarried. The round horizon of the ocean
this morning is girdled with rainbow.
A blonde perches inquisitively among the dresden branches.
REGRET
Mother, when I dress him
as a woman I love him.
I wish I hadn't thrown away
some of your old girdles.
