I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived

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

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

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

Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.

When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…

We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and

A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here

One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,

Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press

The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.

FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,

There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless