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 Animal Concern Calendar & Datebook - '76

Clock Radio

As I revolved about you,
circled you in Valey Forge
I felt that I had finally
           saddled on the sun.
I knew that at the very least
I was riding through the night
on your breath
and firmly on your back
toward the morning
and shot across the sky.

I should have known

when Stevie Wonder woke me up
                  that very morning
singing Sunshine Of My Life,
that I had finally hitched
and harnessed up the sun.
Those who love
know radios would never lie
                     at six a.m.

The Morning Of My Life

The planting
of my new life
       now begins.
Not starting over,
for this month
I'll be little more
than one year old
having had my birth
the night I fell down
in your arms last year
only to rise up
and fall back down again.

And so it is
the morning of my life.
Here I am,
naked, like a child man
open to you always.

In some other life
I started building
all I've built for you,
never knowing you
never knowing
            it would be you.

The planting of my new life
                       now begins
and you will be the farmer
tending me till harvest.

Sneaker Poem
             for Marlene Dietrich

How many miles
have I been traveling
or have I always
run in place
marking time
upon a treadmill.

I know this much,
I've traveled out of me
                      at last.
        I've put off the skin
that had I known
was interfering with what waited,
I'd have shed
two dozen years ago.

Your skin is warmer anyway.
Safer to be hiding in
at times I feel so close to you
that I am surely
on the inside of you
               looking out.

I wonder
just how many thousand miles
these shoes have walked
                            and ran
               and trotted down
before they climbed your doorway
and began to climb the stairs
that would lead them
to the final bedside
and the last dark closet
they would ever come upon.

Sunday Three
        for Pam Burns

We cannot go both ways
though I know you'll try.
I could take you up one road
             and down another,
but one Sunday middle-month
is not enough to start a trip,
let alone a journey justice.

So we meet and part
and maybe meet again,
lonesome travelers hiking
up some hill of hope
then down a Denver Sunday
at the summer's start.
I don't know where I am.
            Do you ?

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