I have looked for you, and found you too

In objects and places of some short, sweet past:

In a scrubbed, round table creaking under

Sandwich boxes and white cups of coffee

You were there, brimming and fusing

With the otherwise ordinary air.

You came in birthday packages,

The showy ribbons extravagant as your talk,

While I walked in sluggish time in the eye of a storm,

No kind streetlight for warmth.

I had thought you’d always live

Only in old trinkets and tints

I’d worn evenings for you.

But today I saw your face in the sky.

This steely cement city that won’t budge for sorrow

Cradled your body in her arms.

Buildings broke and the lights quivered rocky

To scatter you across the crumbling universe.

Sun and stars collapsed softly,

The storm came on, the sky was a sea

And every wave the music you were.




The Final Temple.

If love rests in places where

The heart finds castle homes,

I have many hundred love temples-

In sudden grass in the monotony

Of sidewalks;

In some green painted ladder

Limited and arrogant of its short span;

In the woman who laughs at me in the mirror,

Having draped her skirts about,

And lifted the corners of her mouth up;

And in the underside of your wrists,

And on your forehead.

I love best in a home beyond

Things I touch and remember, where

Time flows shadowy and

Disappears near eternity;

Leaves me great room to water

Insignificant, reckless hopes.