I am here

I am here

Not quite a man then 

Stubble on the head neck
Awkwardly shirt off sun towel beach world

I am here years; then rain water on MacDougal Street
Front of Café Wha
Disintegrating newspapers sound from in/out
Looking for your hand

I am here uncorking a bottle of King’s wine
Small hill, golf course birthday dream
You are full with the roundness of spring flush

And I am here again with Robert Frost’s walls
The cowbirds are the only visitors
Save a lone chipmunk lightening speed
Having seen the shadow

You away, always away, always always
The yearning, the soul
There is a kernel of everything
Inside everything, inside every kernel there is everything