and not the night’s infinite
chambers, where the dogs
run wild (or so you sang
) not the sleek, long hounds
but the round, rising glow
upward through new green
with a whisper (your song
) and sage advice for the
timid – leave alone – lift
your old coat from the bed
from across (still singing
) your now finished legs
and rise, through ceilings
out, above these two rivers
leaving just (your loving
sound to soothe the living
No comments:
Post a Comment