James A. Hawley
	from Vezelay                   A brebis tondue Dieu mesure le vent.       Ash trees were just leafing out Along the Rue de Rivoli The one window in our   Room on the third floor Overlooking the boulevard Opening out on them.   I thought I saw you That Palm Sunday In front of the église   Across the street Handing out sprigs Of boxwood to the devout.   A highway runs by the roadhouse At the bottom of the hill & it was there we learned you’d   Just passed through not Long ago, had in fact Taken a room in that very   Establishment & stayed the night Howling at a moonless sky A vocalization tempered   By vin au cassis & Leffe, hills