Tuesday, November 12


I have sown a few moons today
In the field of sunflowers.
The blind girl will come,
Knock on a snake's burrow,
All in the dark of a breezeless night
Where all the wind scurrying rats make.

My work is done, I lie asleep
Contented, hands stained with earthworms,
I will only rise to wait:
I will watch the river's edge
Where my broken boat's edges bounce
Off every little seed blown that way.

I will take grains of wheat in my hand,
Make them a rosary, count them and pray them,
As many times as the girl shall try
To come to me, to find a way,
Without ever taking a staff, she will need to
Walk and knock. And walk and knock.



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