On Reading Campo Dei Fiori By Cm

You, Czeslaw, like a brook of the earth, welling up to the skies and more, swelling up even to the sun and the stars and all unknown, uncounted galaxies and more, more than we can yet know or ever will, till in timeless space we dwell in a place where our tears mingle with your own, making of themselves and all their visions and their dreams, one endless, downpouring stream, breaking through both time and space, cleansing, clearing perhaps one small part of one small heart of the human tendency to be a living witness of evil, and not care. 2006 July 11