I remind that I lifted. I struck out those cold points, that were
process. I said I in a cold day morning and the white of breath showed
something thru dark. no words were in that smoke. daylight hadn't dawned
on me or anyone. I tried to think, and was little. I thought earlier
this same. the poem was there all along. then I took a point of time, in
which my father. then it wasn't him. then I said I would try. then I
forgot the work. then I looked back. then I was writing that I hadn't
done. but I had. have you cared that way? simple questions crowd us. I
specialize. I was strong as betting or even, cloud goes away. when
language is as great as we think, we believe poetry. when language is
small, your family is smaller. when I did all I could, I saw I could do
more. when I read that sentence, I see many things varying. did I need a
family when I was weak? do I need one when I am strong? a father or
mother, either way, the weight and waiting. something was staved, and
something caught on, and something, I wrote. you may find this too, in
the way of your road. the end.
