The River of Bees by W.S. Merwin
In a dream I returned to the river of bees Five orange trees by the bridge and Beside two mills my house Into whose courtyard a blind man followed The goats and stood singing Of what was older Soon it will be fifteen years He was old he will have fallen into his eyes I took my eyes A long way to the calenders Room after room asking how shall I live One of the ends is made of streets One man...
sometimes i’m not really sure what is happening. these are good times to exercise trust.
Ash Ode by Dean Young →
“When I saw you ahead I ran two blocks shouting your name then realizing it wasn’t you but some alarmed pretender, I went on running, shouting now into the sky, continuing your fame and luster. Since I’ve been incinerated, I’ve oft returned to this thought, that all things loved are pursued and never caught, even as you slept beside me you were flying off. At least...