Saturday, March 26, 2005

I Come to the Garden Alone

The whimpering woman
enters the ordered tranquility
to accuse and promise
offerings for the day.

I am startled to enjoy
the garden while she
warms the coolness
of the back of my hand by her breath.

Another hastens into our evening,
he helps me to listen again to her words.
With faithful recognition, he dispels
the lies and helps me

to return to the asylum
where words are gentle
and the created are loved.
Her words disappear for awhile.

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