XV-I
Here there was a forest
Now there’s a broken man
Stirring to his feet
Pat on the back
From a closing time sweeper
Still dizzy
Stumbling out the door
Spilling on the sidewalk
A fine
Late night early morning
Nowhere to go
But forward
On the left side of the road
Right side’s reverse
Finding a way back
To the first unwritten verse
Can’t only get there on foot
A bus is waiting to take me
Take me back
To where this truth began
To find myself again
In transit
To the birth of this new world
A Life in Poems 