Poems

Bow

The dead have eyes

and that is why you must bow,
you must bow, she said.
Beforehand, I bowed and listened.
In wonderment, I thought then:
Dead as I am now
 

Will she bow and listen, too?

Utopia

There was a sigh in the land of B

down from Hills to narrow staired streets
the Echo was the same as when I heard you speak
Did I say you ought to listen and not repeat,
this stone you thought we must throw at the sea.
We swam and swam and came to see
 

at last, Dawn, on a shore with palm trees.

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