218 14 9
|
Where are the warm isles of emerald waters and sugar sand, where a depleted bag of tricks may be refilled?
|
89300
|
Make paddles of his hands
Use his skull to bail
Rig his thigh bones for a mast
And his skin to make a sail
|
97154
|
I am stunned that you’re gone
here one moment, vanished the next
leaving only profound stillness
in all the spaces and moments you used to be
|
125700
|
No news spreads faster than news of a death. Word of the death of a child can be heard simultaneously in a thousand places. . . the word spread by telephone, in back yards from clothesline to clothesline, with whispers in grocery stores, in the looks on faces stunned into…
|
601
|
|
92010
|
"Maybe…" he began searching for some comforting wisdom. "Maybe it's like this. Husbands live for their wives. Mothers live for their children. And children...well...until they're husbands or wives, they live for themselves."
|
13921
|
And in the night the wild dogs bayed and snarled and rooted out your father’s corpse. The carcass hauled across the moonlit field while you stood waist deep in the grasses.
|
123765
|
Someday, the Grim Reaper, wrapped in hooded cowl, the thorny stem of a red rose clenched between his teeth, will climb up the garden trellis to my bedroom window
|
78109
|
I can only say I’m glad/
it’s not me,
|
15074
|
But this horse, he was magic... I buried him where he fell.
|
110032
|
fate is an illusion we use to ease the terror of our mortality
|
148159
|
But I can't help it./I am alive./Therefore, I die over/and over again/over nothing.
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