There Is No Word For Time. Today

The Place I Live In Is A Kind Of Maze And I Keep Seeking The Exit Or The Home.

Pulling Off The Fat Diamond Engagement Ring, Pulling Off The Elopement Wedding Ring, And Holding Them, Clicking Them In Thumb And Forefinger, The Indent Of Twenty-five Years, Like A Tiny Rip Leaving Its Mark.

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow. When I See It, Suddenly, In The Air, All Little And White And Moving; Then I Am In Love Again And Very Young And I Believe Everything.

In A Dream You Are Never Eighty.

The Windows, The Starving Windows That Drive The Trees Like Nails Into My Heart.