There's no loss in love
The one who loves can
Never lose.

Come away with me?
Stay with me?
What could I offer?
Nothing
Anything

Gypsy

In the interval between reach and grasp
The absent presence of desire
The boundary of flesh and self
Between you and me.

Gypsy

If everything is subjective
Why do we argue
When none of us right?

Hammer in my right hand a bunch of
nails in the left
green vines bending towards my legs
I'm here
with all I have

I kneel down on the
cool muddy surface
caress
with decided clarity
the soil
the earth

I do belong

Poppies plucking scant esteem
Into the sad stream of a dream
At last the tranquil perfect flower
Grown blind, grown spectral
Consoling shadows
The sighing of the wind
Lingers
Pitiless and cold
Beneath November trees
We wandered Speaking silence


Gypsy