Afternoon

 

 

 

 

 

All we need

hovers before us

a dream of gold

wheat and sky

shimmering warm (but

what kind of pass

do you need to get

into a place like that?

we wonder, fumbling

in pockets and muttering sorry

as though the cashier waited

impatiently, popping

her gum).

 

All we need

is entrance into

serenity and if

we find it in a deserted

movie theater who

can blame us?

 

Need is

a lion waiting

by the front door,

a sun going

down to the other world.

Hold me, we say.

We say, let me go.

Need is not the leaf

carried miles on the

surface of the water.

It is, of course,

the water.