I have migrated to another place.
This neighborhood is not familiar. I
Walk safely down these streets without the face
That can be recognized, without the sly
And swaggering pretense of kindred heart
With which I wooed so desperately the bold
And myriad tenants of my life. Apart
At last and yet a part afire a-cold
Unfeathered but impassioned in the bone
Like dying Ivan I am on the wind
Articulate alight aloud alone.
Plucked clean and raw the skeleton will sing.
Celebration of Love
Poems of Love and Hope
A Need for Love
World of Love
Mission Statement
