Somewhere in Bessarabia
Wandering,
though actually doing nothing of the sort,
I came upon the hill
(then upoff it),
liberated a flutter lark
that had become loosely tangled in the breeze
and listened to her sweet song.
And though I recognized the tune,
I just couldn't remember the words.
Darn.
(June 1987)
Understanding, or at least trying to
Once, for three seconds on a roller coaster,
I understood.
Life, love—all that stuff.
It made sense.
Sort of.
Well,
maybe not a lot of sense,
but enough.
(August 1987)