Looking back is easier now
don’t have to turn my head...
It is amazing to see the dispersion of youth.
Child takes from the parent those things...
Stones set down with seven hundred years accrued
are o’ertaken by trees and newer dogma...
It is an Italian elm,
branches sweeping...
She skirts her raft at the edges of the vortex,
Seeking the faces of those who are drowning...
What is the luxury tail of torture?
When the pain is done...