An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...

If loneliness were a flower,
it would bloom—only to fade...

You, only you
not others...

The horizon is glorious—
unbroken, when your beauty...

We do not need religion;
we have God...

Our countenances—
nothing but impressions...

To my little niece
I miss you from the bottom of my heart...

Inner and outer —
without both, no bird takes flight...

To escape death,
there is no choice but to live...

Do you remember our panting in an aquarium,
all wet and sweaty...

He brushed me off with his eyelashes and said,
"You are an idiot—you know nothing...

The obvious is always visible,
yet vision is personal...