on what is to become my final visit
to this sanitarium garden
i find his left eye is more broken
than his right
providing a soft-landing place
for a wanton lizard
till the eye blinks and the lizard leaps
to where sweet smoke evolves
from the churlish lips
of this great curmudgeon
cloistered away in silence
for want of dignity
he'd been cast aside by me
for decades
as unclean
yet it is within his madness
i've come to realize
may lie the very gift
that could have informed me
of the nature of my pain
___The Poet SPIEL
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem