Care for one anotherWith a strong backAnd a soft front Hold one anotherSo that we all may standAnd rest our crying eyesOn lovely shoulders So…
Spiraling, I know,But up, I hope, and out,Or circling the drain,Teasing the crisis, Not going down.
Lost on my father’s sky gray patioHe tossed a cup of stale pine needlesFrom the dying Christmas treeInto the rusting fire pitExtinguishing itCoughing The damp…
they held hands with pocketsleaning back on pavement paintedunder Hilma Klint cosmossliding headfirston their backsinto that wellThe Sun tuned into the voices in the backwhispering…