A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since depart
Mark the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here

When love is a shimmering curtain
Before a door of chance
That leads to a world in question
Wherein the macabrous dance
Of bones that rattle in silence

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone

Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,

We wear the mask that grins and li
It shades our cheeks and hides our
This debt we pay to human guile
With torn and bleeding hearts…
We smile and mouth the myriad subt

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing

The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant

I’ve got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry

Your smile, delicate
rumor of peace.
Deafening revolutions nestle in th
cleavage of
your breasts