this must be the
last station
night rubs her pebbled palms
with needles of rain
        
...
    
        All night rain kept beating
against roofs and windows
Mad with unfullfilled desires
Pouring out her being
        
...
    
        Boats came and went
floating certain on dark waves
unconcious sway of restless oars 
against formless water
        
...
    
        You remind the night of shadows
light of its blindness
 Tell the trilling notes of birds
they are but echoes in air
        
...
    
        I am here
and here is what? 
Little beyond last day's broken thread
deep into throbbing heart of past
        
...
    
Learning to be)
                    Happening
                    
                    with all the falsehoods of
of time 
partitioned
into  shut doors and  damp walls
that wreck of a hope
combs the water of spaces  
as you sit 
like a pebble 
on that moss licked stairway
 cloaked
in the froth of darkness
                

 
                    