Door in the Mountain: New and Collected Poems, 1965-2003

I have lived in your face

with mud and spit and groaned —Then I saw your and my fingerbones outstretching in the thin blue planet water. I have lived in your face I have lived in your face. Have I been you? Your mother? giving you birth —this pain whenever I say goodbye to thee —up to now I always wanted it but not this A goldfinch in the rain A goldfinch in the rain a broken bird-feeder on the branch above her its roof an inverted V without any floor uncradle rocking In the Visiting Area: rocking: not touching 30 door in the mountain ...