Back to The Gods index
Previous poem


This large
lump full of needs
sits in a room
with the light on, looking
through the window at other
lighted windows
shining in the dark,
not with an idea -
not with the light that shone
from the face
of St Seraphim - but just
each one signifying
the presence of another
or of two or more
gathered together perhaps
and each yellow rectangle
a sign, an indication
that there is an energy,
a hunger - one or several
desperations structured
in a collection
of yellow rectangles that resemble
yellow stars
sewn on the dark
clothing of the night.

                                                     Next poem - Hitting the roof