«"She passed away, and was interred by Jacob / Beside the road..." And on the tomb, no sight / Of any name, inscription and no mark up. At nighttime, there’s a gleaming feeble light, / And whitewashed with chalk, the grave’s cupola / With enigmatic paleness is attired. I’m timidly app...»
«To E. K. Gertsyk When the love of flesh fades, / So goes the desire to create. / Your fingers don’t long to handle clay / Or chisel shadows into marble. Your song halts in mid-word, / The brush freezes in mid-stroke — / Surprise…how little they matter. / Farewell, farewell to you...»
«When forty rolls around / It’s too late to play with the muses / It’s too late to languish to music / To drink fiery potion / It’s time to quiet down / It’s time to raise grandchildren / It’s time to shorten your road / When forty rolls around. / / When forty rolls aroun...»
«As my days are fading, / I welcome night’s calm. / The past no longer casts a / Shadow before me — That long shadow that we, / In our tongue-tied futility / To distinguish it from other shadows, / Call our future.»