Where Do Colors Go in Winter?
by Brian Kovich
Teach him. How to be. A better person.
Can an old man change his stripes, his being?
Far from him to Hope. Hope for things to be.
Far away from how things so far have been.
Just the other day, conversation spent
Seeking one like him... but for briefest time.
Meaning only this—they share in their fate.
Meaning truly now, life is but sublime.
Poetry a curse, The Poet spills ink.
Bar him from those words. Her soul is taken.
Be zoic desire. A labrintyne cause.
Be zoic beauty. Thoughts left unspoken.
back to "Letters for Michelle"
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