Tuesday, March 14, 2017


Walking past
the high fence, not seeing—
knowing only

that I have not,
do not, will never
know them—but

as their glinting peels
of laughter
come skittering

through frivolously
falling after-
noon snow flurries

to thaw
and to enter the furtive
folds of each ear—

I cannot
help but apprehend
how it came to pass

many disparate rivers,
once dislodged

from their
high prisons
in secret icy caverns,

all simply ran and ran
and ran, fast and head-

into the same vast
and ever-
lasting ocean.