Thanks

amy Lipman


Oz

Don't teach me flight
I'll walk to you

Use your patience with me
To form new words
I shook and stood
Your hands
Down my back
I didn’t have words
You knew I’d still speak
Asked if I’d stay
I said Yes
I meant Yes

Get Gone, Little One

More to life than
His life and mine
Haven of Towering Things
God of heads of pins
Of bones in our ears

Some hear bells
I hear the ground
Bones left in the sun
Find a body
Bones of my body; the desert
Bleached pallid for burn