How to answer or better yet

Ask the question . . . and

What question you might ask

When really why may be

Where you want to go


Which is a valid inquiry

And the one you think you know

Is at the root of who (another

Perfectly good question) you are

When you open your eyes


Truths and lies both

Clarify and disguise

From one another what they want

And why—teasing and pleasing

We try to satisfy the puzzler


Once our backs are covered

Our bellies full and we’ve milked

Ourselves into reverie

A time to ponder . . . a time

To ask . . . to wonder


What tasks a poet might perform

If any save talking to oneself

The rhythmic beat of music

Pounding the ear . . . the heart

Thump lapping at the shore


In the dark singing the sun

To rise—that time to appreciate

Being alive and giving something

The only thing we have

To give the only thing


We truly own . . . our voices

Singing the beauty of life in death

The sun’s kaleidoscopic dance

As it sets—the long sleep—the dream

Of music or sweet peaches kissed

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