Sunday, December 24, 2006

unwelcome strangers

i thought dying was the great liar
bringing its special gifts
standing at my door like some
awkward suitor
bearing flowers and the dusk
dressed in fanciful confusions
asking always if i dreamed
if i thought of running to the sea
howling at the crashing waves
leaving its small concoctions
by my bed
baskets of hope
tidy bits of consolation
whispered stories so i may sleep
i've had no other lover
who'd think to kiss an untidy man
and i've made no way
here in the world
all done with passions
not returned
i pushed my quiet hours
to clear some room for
unwelcome strangers
liars asking questions
and bearing gifts


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