remembering
your tropical dream
fly—now—
to the south
your heart
turned
to a hard green
stone—“what about
me? what
about me?”—
must learn to make
offerings
the clenched fist
can only struggle
to hold on
it cannot receive
what nourishes the dead?
what keeps us
fat and happy?
the fire
of your prayerful
words
1/21/2005
Thank you, Sue. Exactly.
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The clenched fist…cannot receive. A great reminder for these times.
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