Cities
In beautiful hotels,
In maddening and difficult cities,
Plump with anger and wealth.
In the pine forests, damp-cool and
free,
Under a swirling night,
Of lights and dust and voices,
Far away, but right here around me.
In all this space,
And flow of time,
I walk in a small wire cage.
With nothing to witness me,
Without the joy of someone’s pride,
With no reasons.
This is being without love.
Sept/Oct 2011
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