And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
even the stars
are whispering to each other.
This hits me hard
Get Out From Living Inside Of Me
[The vast, circumambient atmosphere
Allows me but ninety cubic centimeters
Of its billions of gallons and miles of sky.]
I inhale it anyway,
Knowing that it will hurt
In the weary ends of my crumpled paper bag lungs.
I’d swim across Lake Michigan
I’d sell my shoes
I’d give my body to be back again
In the rest of the room
To be alone with you