Amazing--my office window
Points precisely west at a pine
And a painted backdrop of grey
Clouds over blacktop and red rock.
This cinderblock and sheetrock cube
Quartering the old butcher shop
Where the blood drained against the last
Wall of a desert grocery,
This touching point between Duat
And the mundane world has caught me
In its rotating locks of lives,
Lost without the Book of Two Ways
To map a path for these last days
After the dreaming of escapes
Into books of kindly dreamings,
Before the weighing of the heart.
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