Saturday, July 12, 2008


for M.H.

It is not your face to emerge through the door, nor 
your voice yet to stricken my day with its toll,

and, till then, not to you to whom I offer
my animal semblance of song,  my howl, 

bearing not the matter of its lament
to magnify, the fact of its master's tongue---

therefore I pause here, dumb and terrified, 
though you still seem a dreamy proximity,

knowing tomorrow would wake me
in fire, if you deigned enter my day.