In the Past
There lies a somnolent lake
Under a noiseless sky,
Where never the mornings break . . .
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In Praise of My Bed
At last I can be with you!
The grinding hours
since I left your side! . . .
In Praise of Pain
A brilliance takes up residence in flaws—
a brilliance all the unchipped faces of design
refuse. The wine collects its starlets . . .
In School-days
Still sits the school-house by the road,
A ragged beggar sleeping;
Around it still the sumachs grow, . . .
Incident
Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean . . .
Infelix
Where is the promise of my years;
Once written on my brow?
Ere errors, agonies and fears . . .
Inside Out
I walk the purple carpet into your eye
carrying the silver butter server
but a truck rumbles by, . . .
Insomnia
Thin are the night-skirts left behind
By daybreak hours that onward creep,
And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
. . .
Insomnia
Now you hear what the house has to say.
Pipes clanking, water running in the dark,
the mortgaged walls shifting in discomfort, . . .
Insomnia and the Seven Steps to Grace
At dawn the panther of the heavens peers over the edge of the world.
She hears the stars gossip with the sun, sees the moon washing her lean
darkness with water electrified by prayers. All over the world there are those . . .
