The First Step In The Journey Is

Is There A Mechanism Of Death, That So Mutilates Existence No One, Gets Over It Not Even The Dead?

The First Step... Shall Be To Lose The Way.

This One Whom Habit Of Memory Propels To The Ground Of His Making, Sleeper Only The Mortal Sounds Can Sing Awake, This Blessing Love Gives Again Into Our Arms.

Never Mind. The Self Is The Least Of It. Let Our Scars Fall In Love.

Goodbye, You Who Are, For Me, The Postmarks Again Of Shattered Towns--xenia, Burnt Cabins, Hornell-- Their Loneliness Given Away In Poems, Only Their Solitude Kept.