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Wednesday, August 21, 2013

without Joy

                                             sad love at 21

Cold year

First a tear.

Then an eye.
Then a smile 
I cannot see.
Then your words,
Drowned by the breeze,
And then            infinity.
Wondering. Waiting.
Your thought tearing through me like a spear . . .
With force undiminished,
This cold, cold year.




         Kind Lady of My Sorrow

Lovely Death. 
Beautiful Death.
Kind Lady of My Sorrow.
Dance with me in measured steps
to the forgetful sky above,
where eternal happiness rises unextinguished.

Beyond all the misery and pain of her passing,
Twirl and sway, Tempting Gypsy.
while our hands and bodies kiss,
And understand why . . .

           I wish to die.

(Published in Focus magazine in the 1980s)