by Hettie Jones

          . . . my wolf . . . at the foot of the bed / in the dark all night
                                                                            Maxine Kumin

Asleep among
these twice reflected
city lights, I dream
an axe in a corner

to sever and clobber
the rock hard
impervious words

Nevertheless:

fourth floor, bed
newly made
for me to
once again
lie in it

by Hettie Jones

Think about it: someone
shoots your buddy dead —
so you grab your gun

and the blast you send
strikes the heart of the matter —
another murder

making two, and neither is you
since you’re the one
who lives to run

and run you will
so think this through
it could be you

by Hettie Jones

As you advised,
I am wearing
the sweater
I won’t be wearing
after I’m dead

I’m wearing it
while I still have
choices

to leave myself
open or buttoned

by Diane di Prima

Maybe they are never done with us
the speechless full Moon or the
Force, and how many other hearts ?
Be like a mirror of heaven, & be
with the quiet as it continues.
You pay regular visits to yourself, or

You don’t. You are a diver
with a restless, breathy sound.
Be willing to sit for a brief while, the
Force makes angels jealous !
The minute hand pauses in grief. It
may be Devils shiver at our nerve.

with material from Rumi