Three Poems, November 2005
A Book and a Woman
Death
Old age
aside,
Nothing is more humbling
than a book
or a woman.
A beautiful woman.
Privacy
In real country
trees offer privacy.
In the city
people, like trees
provide privacy.
Unlike people,
trees do not often frown or
become angry.
Nor are they
too serious.
Happy Syllables
Your eyes stealthily sneak
into my head
into my senses
And steal notions
images
and all the happy syllables
you stashed in them.
Your eyes spy
on my sleep
seduce it
snatch it.
How gracious of you!
You only leave me
sentences to sound
thoughts to feed on
In the seasons of silence and solitude.
Your Dreams
I owe it to your dreams,
to your notion
of the past
that I have surpassed
the past
And now reside
in the future
With your dreams,
your notion of time
And my fears.
Love
Always weak
and naive
But doesn't die
Cannot die
Unlike you
Unlike me
Am I
jealous?
Teach me
how to think
of you
how to dream
of you
perhaps living
in my mind
being on my mind
in my sleep
you can love
me
I can love
you
and go to sleep.