waft—to float easily and gently, as on the air, from the Dutch wachten, to guard— he attributes his easy-goingness to an easy life. “But,” she says, “your family lost everything in the holocaust, your father died when you were sixteen and your wife committed suicide.” “Oh, yeah,” he says—a featherweight man of eighty-four—”I never looked at it like that.”
pavilion—an ornate tent, from the Latin papilio, butterfly—we talk about change coming slowly (me-ta-mor-pho-sis), but, to tell the truth, nothing does. Half the caterpillar’s cells undefined: stunning orange wings fanning blue fire. We talk about making room in the heart, ropes clanging against the center pole; all at once, we do, or don’t.