POEMS FOR NOONE  

Ah, New World

The dreams of a new world
Tottering between desolation and liberation;

Death, that simple thing keeping beat to the moving highway.
The faces elevated by a composer they do not know. 

The new world rushes toward us, on us without fanfare as we wander for awhile.
We step lightly through its mazes and watch our powers become obdurate shapes
                       
And the Muse transmutes objects of revenge into mystifying characters.

And comes the blast down on the insistence of form, hardened on coals of endless conflict.

The abyss, the abyss swallows the new world; the celebrants run from the sea.