The snakes have hit me again

Turning me around

To look in a new direction

That is an old direction

I’ve seen everything there is to see there

But chance throws me once again

Into a situation

A conversation

A passing mention


Love is strange

Pastel on one side

Black on the other

But when memory dances

Like distant lightning across my mind

I see only the bright colors

The blackness is miniscule

The blackness belongs to the real world

When I open my eyes

And look disdainfully at the drudgery of tomorrow

That is black

My memories are bright

And if one comes back

I will take it

And prepare for the harvest

That has been so long in coming


-June 1996


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