Blessings

My friend 

the gods have given us the same mouth 

the lips of irony that laugh at darkness 

that almost turn up

even when we weep

it’s just another way that we are twinned

by these generous and unsought gifts

that is how the gods

like to shower us with blessings.

This heaven’s rain

falls like silver feathers which nest in my hair

and then fade from the heat of me

as I turn about 

poetry sprays wildly from the fountain 

and sinks back to the earth

all around the wide-flung circle of my thoughts 

the words are vanishing again 

like sugar on the tongue.

Inspiration is another blade 

with two sides sharpened 

the better to cut deep

after all everything 

that is in me

may as well lay out on the altar

what use trying to hide it

what use trying to deny the gods

they’re already gnawing on us.

Today I have allowed the tears to 

fall out of my eyes

I’ve let the iron grip fade 

for a day

what difference if a woman

walking her dog wonders

why I am crying 

perhaps I mourn for the dead

perhaps I mourn 

for the parts of us

that are dead.