from The Prologue

I write the word: I am behind it.

You read the word: you are before it.

We make a oneness, a reflection

two separate moments come together

but the word is still between us.

Someday there’ll be no words

someday we’ll simply be

like flutes playing each other.

Strike a match, light up this page

watch them go black and vanish into flame

 

for John Keats

 

I think that I’m a candle

whose flame stays round the wick

whether set in one place or carried

never wavering an inch

from where I’ve always been.

I hold out my hand like you did.

When I’m happy and look at it

it’s not the same I see sadly

desiring or when I’m tired.

It changes with my feelings

which usually I don’t notice

like light and shadow pass over the day

revealing as the morning sun

obscured by clouds or tears.

When you vanished, did all vanish?

With a change of heart I change the world.