All people are 
interesting but most
people aren’t interested 
so they speak 
before spoken to 
they rant they
scream and they 
defend because everyone 
no matter who
needs to hear 
their own voice 
for one’s voice 
is all that 
one ever knows 
to confirm that 
they ever existed 
just like puppies 
who surprise themselves 
after they bark 
the first time 

The winds of wisdom 
blow steadily from east
to west and from 
north to south sometimes 
from one and sometimes 
from all the all
of wisdom’s winds fury
is called a torrent 
a storm of madness 
too much to bear
except for a very 
few who can withstand 
and even fewer who 
can absorb and afford 
jeer not those who 
seem speechless for just 
like babies unable to 
utter a single word 
they likely know far
more and soon forget 
what before birth learned 

His favorites are
the harvest moons
it is because 
I think that 
upon those he 
wished his hardest 
and if there’s 
only one thing 
I’ve ever known 
about him it’s 
that his heart 
is just as
big and bright 
and that it’s 
now my very 
own harvest moon 

Today he leaves 
where he was
raised to return 
to the place 
where he grew 
like I suppose 
a leaf might 
do if once 
it has fallen 
winds carry it
back to the 
forest where first 
it had come 
roots being that
which they are 
never forget their
first fresh rich
and deep soil

My life 
has reduced 
congealed abridged 
and shrunken
the best 
of only 
the best 
of me 
missing not
anything I
once had 
for what 
does remain 
is only 
that which 
has returned 
nothing more 
for the 
nothing less 
never did