Speak To The Heart Of A Dying Man

Speak to the heart
Of a dying man
Corroded by the words
Said in gradual

In a strange hour
He will be freed.
The flask of his thoughts
And emptied.

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Two Syllables

I’ve seen you
Somewhere in the realm
Of my mind
Expressing not one
But two syllables.
“I live.”
You said.
The imaginary threshold
Shows no sign
Of believing –
Not until
The word was out
About a prodigal son
To the bounty
Of his father.

(In memory of my brother
Warren C. Go
Aug.22,1974 – Dec.3,1996)

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Avoidance met me
Face to face
On that same corner
You held back your eyes.

I’ll recollect
Those scattered pieces
Torn apart
By your heartless smile.

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