I grieve,
Not for the days
That are done,
But for the days
...
That life was just a prison camp,
The circled shacks, the mud and damp;
The squinting eyes of prison guards
The lowered eyes kept down for yards;
...
In the sunlight,
An empty bench
Before your house
A ghostly sense;
...
Safely she looks
Down
Upon us
From her parapet
...
Your crimson blush....
Your oceans flow....
...
I say this without a hint of malice
But I think of radishes
...
I hung your card.
Upon my wall
Above my bedside
Table, ,
...
I don't recall my prebirth years
A billion years ago
I must confess anxious tears
That time did not run slow
...
What's all this buzzing in the breeze,
These noisy birds, these humming fleas?
The bursting branches of the woods,
These calling loons, misunderstood;
...