Cecilia says, "The pantoum form provided me with a vessel to contain/convey a love that didn't fit the traditional parameters, but went far beyond them..." Pantoum: le Jardin d'Isabelle The love of my lover for his wife: his name being stone, the word for stone, and her name like a flower, Isabelle-- who has thrown herself into the garden this summer, made it a paradise. His name is the stone I polished in my mouth all winter long: Pierre, as in Peter, who stands at the gate, who welcomes me into the garden this summer she's made a paradise. And I come bearing the little sin of sweet alyssum, love them both-- Pierre (she calls Peter) who stands at the gate, and Isabelle, coming toward me now, knee-deep in the shimmering grass. I have brought them the little sin of sweet alyssum, love them both-- and beloved, welcomed, slip into the shade between them, kissed by the child who's come rushing toward me, waist-deep in the shimmering grass and, lifted into my arms, names me tante of weeds and wind and beloved, laughing, slips into the shade between us, blessed-- the love of this man for this woman and this woman for this child. And lifting out my arms the crushed bouquet of weeds and wind and calling it luck the glass I shatter in the offering of wine, this man who loves this woman who loves this woman who loves this child offers me a place at love's long table. Not cast out, and calling it luck--the glass I shatter in the offering of wine and the love of my lover for his wife and my place among them, here, and love's long table, not cast out-- I name every flower, Isabelle. [caption id="attachment_458" align="aligncenter" width="198" caption="Cecilia Woloch. BOA poet."][/caption]