there are some gains from adding years to life
then there are losses from the very start
that cannot be avoided by the art
or skill that teaches ease of horrid strife
although the world with pain and death is rife
we don't just throw the bodies on the cart
and pass on by each of us has some heart
yet still we know we must go under knife
no magic keeps us hidden from the fact
that life's a process with an ending point
and not some bird forever on the wing
this play must reach at last the closing act
the times must be put into proper joint
and winter come long after the bright spring

cliff-dwelling swallows in the dryer vent
are a connection that we have to face
between free nature and the harsh rat race
at intersection of domestic content
where meaning  action symbol and intent
all come together in a single place
as bird and woman each concede a space
and neither knows just what the other meant
the niche that out of nature has been set
for me to watch as swallows make their home
is given proper purpose by the flight
of urgent swallows leaving as the wet
signals of springtime depart from the dome
of bluing sky and cheer  me by the sight

I cannot stay up too late by myself.
If I do, all the bad thoughts come
and the sadness expands, and floats
and explodes.
I think of all the flaws, how I am always
the giver.
how the future is so close, yet I can’t
make a path
(of any sorts)
how my scars will never truly fade.
I think of how I am always the one who
loves more.
and I think of people. and how someone is
awake. and breathing. and dying. and having
breakfast, right now. half away across the world.
I think of how we are all just a bunch of stars,
and I think of how we’re all just crashing into
each other.
(over and over and over)

I cannot stay up so late, with the night being
my only companion.
so I sleep.
because sleep is always more welcoming than
reality.

who knows the journeys taken by the just
over the saddened earth to find true light
and not be blinded by the sudden sight
of the fair city rising from the dust
when once is passed the desert of distrust
and all have gone through the last sleepless night
cold lacking comfort knowing that the right
answer was coming that is human trust
each is ambassador to the new realm
where equal rulers crudely give reply
to those who cannot truly understand
the forces that will subtly overwhelm
the ragged armies of the ancient lie
and so bring justice to the angry land