The barking dogs
from another yard
and the train rumbling
in the distance
don’t inspire poetry
the moon and stars
hide behind clouds
and solitude
is replaced
with aloneness
no one likes desolation
less than me
but for now
it becomes me
no more pretty psalms
or rhetorical chatter
to lift my spirits
want for sleep emerges
and eventually
it must be answered
3-3-98