Saturday, February 4, 2017

In His Cups Valentine

In a reptilian time
When still so much loveliness
Remains to be accomplished
In his more Etruscan moods
Buried under the debris of his life
Years of drinking and smoking
My father used to say in dying
You start what you can start small
Creation is mostly construction work
Some stones you must reject
If you would find the living ones
Build there upon a solid and
Ecstatic dream brought down
From a real heaven
To an actual home on earth
Little brother of many moons
And then he would fall asleep 

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