Issue 57, Spring 1974
In the half-sun of long days
let us draw our tired bones together
let us forget the unfaithful ones
the unfeeling friends
the sun wavers among the pine trees
let us forget those who are unaware
there are lands within the land
small uncared-for countries
let us not think of the happy ones
let us forget their false teeth
let the sensitive once sleep
on their fine feather beds
you have to know particular stones
full of layers and secrets
to rise with the greening light
with the despair of trains
and touch that crust of the world
which always traveled with us
let us forget the one who is hurt
who feeds on a single setback
the trees above leave open
a half-circle criss-crossed
with wires of pine and shadow
with the air shedding its leaves
let us forget with generosity
those who cannot love us
those who look for fire and fall
like us into oblivion
there is nothing better than
early morning at the sea-foam
a dog approaches and smells the sea
suspicious of the water
all the time the waves keep arriving
dressed in white for school