Pain

Written May 5, 1977

Oh, pain, you rule my bones, you
Walking down the streets
In search
Of the alleys in my soul
Kicking the tin cans
That trap my loves
Throwing rocks at my face
And lurking behind,
Behind bushes.

Broken glass, rusty nails
Underfoot, overhead, face to face.
Evening comes cold
Brilliant clear night
Rain washed, white fenced
We walk
Straight ahead
Hand in hand
Pain and I.

It's not that we are always
Friends
Our paths have crossed today
More than usual.
Meanwhile
Walking dirt roads
Watching back stairs
Peering hopefully
Into back yards
New garden shoots
Tiny in such evening
Chill.