I rose to the sounds of fish weeping
Wind in the palms echoed lament
Shadows covered over the glint of the moon
dancing silver on their tears and their scales
I tried to console them with metaphors
amusing stories and poems
until all was connected to everything
and the world poured over the shore
"Death gives us depth", I said
then showed them pictures of the blind
of those who could see, living there
but were always standing between
In the end they remained dispossessed
by what was said and done
So I spread out crumbs...
on the water


Comments: 14
This poem has given me an idea to re-fuel my writing.
To take out his books and re-read them---
it has been SO many years since I have turned his pages.
Thank you.