Compassion
A POEM
Ice in the spirit
Is but frozen tears
And bitterness
Is expectation killed.
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The Bell Ringer
He disturbs
The sleeping bells, the stolid sounds
Locked in the iron tower
That hold…
Envy of the Empty Air
Of what do they dream
— the white-robed monks?
while we
with half-shaped forms
from…
Thaws
Around our March balcony tonight
Fog closes its slight hand — illusive blue —