After the Season

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

We were up to our ears in pain and loss, and so

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

I am removing daggers from breasts and re-

zipping.  Making it clear who loves whom—please go.

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

I am redistributing flowers and potions and flutes, changing key;

rewriting letters, pulling spring out of the snow.

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

I am making madness sane, setting prisoners free,

cooling the consumptive cheek, the fevered glow.

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

Pinkerton and Butterfly make such a happy

couple; Violetta has five gardens now to show ...

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.

The jester and his daughter have moved to a distant city.

Lucia colors her hair now, did you know?

Come, let us talk, sit together and be

lovers reunited, fished like the drowned from the sea.