By Raymond Carver
The sad music of roads lined with larches.
The forest in the distance resting under snow.
The Khyber Pass. Alexander the Great.
History, and lapis lazuli.
No books, no pictures, no knick-knacks please me.
But she pleases me. And lapis lazuli.
That blue stone she wears on her dear finger.
That pleases me exceedingly.
The bucket clatters into the well.
And brings up water with a sweet taste to it.
To towpath along the river. The footpath
Through the grove of almonds. My love
Goes everywhere in her sandals.
And wears lapis lazuli on her finger.