Once More, Again
I want to fall in love again
and eat mushrooms from her hand
once more and again.
Yes, I want to feel the colors of the trees
and suddenly think of her and race to work
to get the poem down that sparked-oh-
very suddenly when the maples’ red
caught my eye, the tree beside the temple.
I want to fall in love again
and feel things swell up in me,
waves and waves of it,
in a body of water that has lain wearily limp,
forever so long,
it seems.
I am tired of solitariness-
weary of the burden of aloneness,
ready to throw off this mantle, this cover
and feel again the tender graces of the new,
a new passion, another renewed desire,
which is also older and even wiser,
and, yes, much much kinder,
to himself,
once more, again.
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