OCCUPANT
The sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...

A CRITIC
Pick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...

HISTORIAN
Piles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...

YOU WHO KNOW
I was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...

GRIFFY LAKE
I spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...

HIDING

in the forest
of many nights

he eases his heart
with solitude

polishing
polishing

his cheekbones till they
glimmer in the dark

you can find your way
the light is not

so dim
it is a beacon

of consolation
an egg

containing the future
about which

one can always hope