I ONCE TOUCHED HAPPINESS

Along life’s blade,

I turned once toward happiness.

Blackbirds trilled sweetly winter nights,

dead leaves the folded wings of angels.

I walked spring’s bright riverbank once,

the Sirens singing beyond plum blossoms.

I hear them still. May fate’s sisters punish me,

may night bind me.

One’s beloved wounds deepest;

I’ve read the darkest line:

“Delighting in cruel injury,

I live as in a dream.”

This morning is no morning, but a lost battle;

the bed no bed, but a thicket of thorns.

Man is no angel, but may be a biscuit,

crumbled, gulped, digested by winter.

I once touched happiness,

when old snow was fresh, stroking my face.

I once wore life’s ice skates,

around heaven’s pit

etching my brief half circle.