SOME say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

March 8

Every so often my father comes over
for a visit he hangs his overcoat and hat
on my hat rack I brief him on recent
developments and serve us coffee
he is surprised that I like to cook
once when he made an omelette
he flipped it in the air much to my delight
and it landed on the floor yes that
was the summer of 1952, he remembered
the high breakers and how fearless
I was running into the ocean anyway
the important thing is to see you doing
so well he said and took his coat and hat
and left before I remembered he was dead

And I remember how my father taught me a new word

it was about that year.
We sat in the kitchen of the
abandoned property
in Jaffa
and he anointed the pan
on the camping cooker.
And he added an onion and green pepper,
and then a tomato, while mother was at work.

And then he slid in two crackling eggs and salt
while I sit on the stool with a plate and white bread spread with margarine.

And then he asks: well, what do you think?
And I extol its quality and kiss my fisted fingers
and he tells me
''say it's exquisite''
and I've known that word ever since then.