I don't care how God-**** smart
these guys are:     I'm bored.

I push,
you shove

and now
we're an ocean apart,

you ignore me
with every bottle

I count flower petals with
your name on them

Some days I am Ana's teacher, some days she is mine.
This morning, we look through her kitchen window,
the one she can't get clean, cobwebs massed
between sash and pane. The sky is blue-gold, almost
the color of home.
Ana, I say, each winter
I get more lonely. Both of us would like the sun
to linger as that round fruit in June, but Ana says
it's better to forget what you used to know...

I saw the downfall
Of a leaf today --

A sad sight
To have seen
On a day so bright
And green.

There was no wind
No breeze to set the stage.

The little leaf
All red and brown,
Just let go
And fluttered down.

                               All alone it
                               Fell and lay.
                              All alone on
                              Its last day...

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

the bitter cold grates against my nerves
a pleasant sound, not unlike
that of a violin