Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Final Hades


In a way, wonder is buried,
like a long ago heart
or a running machine that
appears as a ghost and
takes your whole life

A lethal fever sets to work
and the crumbling birds eat
at the scraped earth,
this is the place that sighs
this is the place of air and light.

Here and there, little crushed hats
along the beach- and for the
love of ashes, you sail
this evening for Ithaca

1 comment:

Richard Ewing said...

Love the dog in the catbox! A true Hades from any perspective.