between the nail that breaks on the drawer handle
and the wicked in the world and the wick in the candle--
that there are great drifts of questions
and little leaves of answers
that come when they will and only for a moment.
i was walking--
and saw a ghost through the window of a vacant house--
she looked so bewildered and lost,
so out of her element and with such a space to cross--
i said to her, sister,
isn't that always the way
isn't that just always the way?
we only want to be loved, don't we,
whether time is on its way up or going down--
and those others who are gathered around
may be devils or angels--
may be lovers or strangers or really anyone under the sun,
all in or out of the same skin--
together and alone--
haunting each other and calling, like spirits far from home.