If to Each his own
then I, my lone
body's will to rise
through the ashes of my eyes
As if the keeper of this day
puts on his elaborate play
Makes us through his motions move
and for him to soothe
like sound from waves shallow grooves.
As another doubtful soul
retreats back to hungry hole
where such thoughts shall not stir
out his dream's lonely zephyr.
Examine not your own single life
but look across at city starlight
the baby's coo
the mother's stew
in relation to you.
Dare to do as others won't
and others have.
Worry not about
the windstorm path
or incalculable math.
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