Dana Levin – According to the Gospel of Yes
Even the birds, stained black by the thumb
of morning. If not love, then at least a thing
that is not love’s undoing, that is not
a lung with nothing to do. When I dream
of loving another man it is only
a muscle remembering the joy
For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959
and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
Richard Hague – Keeping Watch
in memory of Jim Wayne Miller
This man who sleeps in his clothes
changes in deeper ways,
unshed trousers and shirt the camouflage
under which he transforms
into briers, oak trees, panthers.