The radio tells 

of death and anguish, lying 

in your warm bed, pray

A nun stands on the shore

watching the ice flow downriver; 

black and white thoughts drift  

He wished only to 

experience a joy like

 his dog at play knew

 suddenly awake

before dawn, mind replaying 

ancient abasements 

 Sing out into the

darkness, an offkey bellow 

gets the point across 

The poet in his

poverty but not poor 

life provides a path

Every six months 

the dentist determines if

I've kept my promise