I stand in the corner,
\nby the bay,
\nmy hat open,
\nbeing filled with sun,
\nwith invisible moon.
\nCollecting something
\nfor the hunger of my hands,
\nto hold the roundness
\nof the world,
\nor feel the face of an angel,
\nor paint with the ocher
\nof a rising dawn.<\/p>\n
In the hat goes all things,
\nas if wide enough
\nfor a mountain,
\nor a bird to fly,
\na shadow to find its host,
\na fire seeking warmth.
\nBig enough
\nto hold an atom,
\nignored by everything,
\na ring for the finger of a star.<\/p>\n
So I stand and wonder,
\nholding a cap,
\na beggar,
\nor a man wanting the sky
\nabove him,
\nlooking for the road
\nto the north.
\nBirds flying over the bay,
\nthe father that once was,
\nstill is,
\nnever leaving.<\/p>\n
How do the words explain anything?
\nTake my smile, girl,
\nand say I love you.
\nUse my earnest expression ,boy,
\nhaving taught you nothing.
\nOld man,
\ngo on in your wandering
\nlest you become me.
\nI\u2019ll stay awhile at this airless corner,
\nthink about the woman
\nwith the poet child,
\nand the work to be done,
\nand discover something
\nlater in the morning.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I stand in the corner, by the bay, my hat open, being filled with sun, with invisible moon. Collecting something for the hunger of my…<\/p>\n