Tuesday, April 30, 2024


There—in that 
green space 
where the freshest light 
goes streaking 

through the morning-
spangled branches 
of the still-trembling trees, 

past shabby fields 
of clover and weeds 
where the lawnmowers 
will not go, just to land 

with a gleam 
on the distant heaps
of pink blushing brick 

where even my 
vaguest interlocutors sleep—
that is the place 

where, one day, I 
may come 

to believe, 
without artifice, 

in life 
after death—that is,

in the life 
of this ardent reckless 
world to come 

long after mine 
is done.