A Cargo of Green Hearts
in the oldest Veda, there is not just one dawn
there are many and they often ride
together or arrive from all directions
at once, shadows crumble
no holes to crawl into, stop pretending to be
a blind witness, you ARE the light
you must be it. this time of year, I wait for a
solitary red lipped daughter of dawn to open
her eyes. a bump on the horizon
will make me weep. the trees seem to
be raising their arms overhead. listen:
I am a poor man. have crawled through
the dark for eons just to lie down
at 7 a.m. and see. no more
nightingales, please. don't disappoint me
and I won't disappoint you. I'll put you
in the lantern of my heart and blow
on that flame the rest of my life.
my kisses, when they come, will burn
us down to the toes so cleanly
no ashes will remain.
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