wall of gray windows

this wall of gray windows and scratched glass
closes me in an atmospheric tomb of dancing fleas
waiting for a dog to fly by or flee

we stand in the cold of its empty hall
it's shadowed sun and balding glow
wanting some light to illuminate the day-stars rising

to lift what seems like miracles of people crying
weeping because their laughter had run astray
resting in a fragrant ball where the bumble-bee flies

empty, empty, empty of pollened berries or flowery moss

who knows what to think, expect, sow
when darkness hugs the eyelids like a napping mom

feeding her babe hanging near her lip, clawing
searching for a breast to beat or lap
to take into the land where children rest

where sweet lullabies hover like glass above the door
wanting to fall and crash upon the expectant floor
but can't because the wind has blown



*It's impossible to grow without dying.
-Jean Sulivan

*Destroy prejudices, liberate yourself, liberate me.
-Jean Sulivan

*Since it's useless to cry out, smile at yourself, since you're not so brave every day.
-Jean Sulivan