c. April 1, 1991 to c. June 3, 2006
“Bud in His Pages”
Nothing to say.
Nothing to say.
All you were has gone away.
Nothing to say.
Nothing to say.
Empty phrases holding sway:
How your loss has “dimmed the day.”
How all joy “has gone astray.”
How the landscape’s all “gone gray.”
Nothing to say.
Nothing to say.
Wit has gone on holiday.
Wisdom won’t come into play.
Imagination won’t obey.
Nothing to say.
Nothing to say.
“Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.”
–Walt Whitman
–Only this
(my goodbye kiss):
In this knowledge
Still you give.
In these pages
Still you stay.
Here you live
Like fire in clay.
