I do feel
comfortable
in the sense of
not
having violated
one
une personne
physique
ou morale
but not
as the river
with its barges
and tugs
concomitant
trees
and bugs
rolls by
calm
I
still remember
feel
that soft touch
I
wanted to get
I could never comprehend the mountains
The snow lay
there, and here the motorcycles
Seeing the lights
at night is such comfort
Spring returns to
the trees:
Natures war is
won again
Mans digs in
deeper
I see my own
vulnerability in my son
But I also see
his beauty
I get my glasses
and a book of poetry, its midnight,
Its the middle of
my life, and I can fix a way to take
Care of myself,
my sore throat, my bed, my sheets
And I am not
afraid to pick up the newspaper late
I cant believe
Condoleeza Rice will wait and wait
While Israel
destroys Lebanon and Palestine
She will wait for
the mythical period of negotiation
Why does
negotiation have to follow bloodshed?
I wonder how the
photography went I know for
Poetry, things go
differently, a simple book with
Solid words is
worth the same as a fancy book of
Nothing verse, a
friend in poetry is in the end
And the fill is
energy, to give one, find a fraction
That gears, humps
the hill so more leavening can
Agree, words find
their way, eager turning, admit
Books are talks,
so friends talk poetry traction
