Tuesday, October 24, 2006

a pome

Your head emits a special radiance
as I put you in my heart.
The secret clink as I close it up
like a suspended bell.
My pulsing veins throb, an ever-changing note
eloquent of long ago, the seething winters
we had thought too soon forgotten.
Then, too, the after-times -
my simple wish defers itself.
Dreaming of a wheel
without a road

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