ghazals from the tub

after dawn, i want to bathe,
and climb into the cedar-sweet water.

yesterday the tulip twigs were full of springlight
overhead, today it's fog and the new leaves.

the fog carries jasmine across the garden
in little drops of perfume for my hair.

the ice-gray broccoli evades my clippers
with a cloud of yellow blooms.

the fog will be gone by twelve,
we'll have flowers for lunch.

Judith Bishop