Turning to watch you leave,
I see we must always walk toward
other loves, river of heaven
between two office buildings.
Orphaned cloud, fish soup poppling,
book spined in the open palm. Unstoppable light.
I think it is all right.
Or do tonight, garden toad
a speaking stone,
young sound in an old heart.
Annul the self? I float it,
a day lily in my wine. Oblivion?
I love our lives,
keeping me from it.
- Lisa Russ Spaar