alone
dragging your load
as you do
across the deserts of your
stolen dreams
tossed about wantonly by
furious winds and
ingratiating high tides
then you can't have seen the magic that has awaited you
day after enchanting day
in the powdered concrete that glistens
even beneath overcast skies
and upon which you walk
mind and body apart
or heard the dragon's contented roar
escaping from hurrying cars
that grate and grind past you
or touched the slender waxy tubes
of the fuschia
that have at last fallen to the ground
after their week-long fanfare
Nor would you have tasted
the slow release of saliva
sweet in its anticipation
of the marshmallow that will crown the
frothy hot mocha you order every morning
or felt the feathery caress of the breath of
ten thousand angels
assigned by Heaven
to be your constant company
and heard them adoringly whisper
again and again and again:
again and again and again:
You are loved
