this must be the
last station
night rubs her pebbled palms
with needles of rain
...
All night rain kept beating
against roofs and windows
Mad with unfullfilled desires
Pouring out her being
...
Boats came and went
floating certain on dark waves
unconcious sway of restless oars
against formless water
...
You remind the night of shadows
light of its blindness
Tell the trilling notes of birds
they are but echoes in air
...
I am here
and here is what?
Little beyond last day's broken thread
deep into throbbing heart of past
...
Learning to be)
Happening
with all the falsehoods of
of time
partitioned
into shut doors and damp walls
that wreck of a hope
combs the water of spaces
as you sit
like a pebble
on that moss licked stairway
cloaked
in the froth of darkness