Monday, September 11 (1)
TO GO HOME
The will to make something beautiful
Out of nothing---two stars in the fury
Of the Big Bang. Nothing separates
From anything, the light breaks on
The keyboard, the anthills grow bigger,
The flowers open and open. I say,
Touch me, or let me touch you, in a
Garden filled with daylilies. The sun
Will also set, we will become specks
Like that in the dusk, crying to go home.
(Noelle Kocot)