All around me, the sky with its deep shade of dark.
The stars.
The moon with its shrunken soul.
...
All the men in my dreams
are featureless.
I turn away and there they are.
Staring at me with their spotless faces.
...
To have felt from the center of oneself
a vital truth
as madmen must, each solitary moment,
large or small imbued with importance,
...
~who are they, the great ones?
~Adler
They are the ones
...
Of course, your songs in their bright red melodious coats I jump
into the pocket where your right hand goes, play with your fingers
like they're my own private army of clutches.
...
after, when you are driving
75 miles one way just to get to her
and her wind-touched hair,
bleached white by the September
...
some will be swallowed
by their mothers.
some will outlive their daughters.
far across the waves,
...
He died in January, the smell of winter
will always remind me of him.
The teeming scent of rain on asphalt,
nevertheless I have learned ways
...
drifts in and out of my consciousness
as I take an easy walk through town square,
watching as others toss coins in the fountain,
the wish-want on their faces so clear, I put
...