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Poem

Through the dark of panting woods the old man comes
Troubled with anxiety ... afraid the axeman had come first
And each shudder of light there, his frail footsteps numbs
For each missing tree for him make expectations worst.
What if I knock at a friends door, and silence comes back
All droopy headed and sad, I'd regret forever this old track!

Each is more than a probable house, it is a living heart
Where Deborah Guzzi, Charma Chircop, Karen O'Leary
Jimmy Goff, Carolyn Devonshire, James Peranteau heart
Held communion with mine, so did Higgins, my country
Man, and Brian Strand, Carol Brown, Raul Moreno all these
I cringe for each time I feel the rusty reap of rapid breeze. 

So here I am in worship of what is better than us all, since
Grace and giver must be the same, here I bring prayers
Out of faith that fathom all dept and hold my love convinced
That we are nobler than nameless gatherers and scatterers
Before us again, or equal to some, who shared this dream
Hedged by the certainty that life is more than what it seem

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