Poetry Cornered

I walk alone on silent feet at night.
  Crescent moon rising, Orion setting,
  Summer's Triangle in view.

I walk through the world,
  or at least a part of it.
  I walk on silent feet,
  and nobody knows.

                           -27 April 1985




Here I sit in the moonlight,
 abandoned by women and men,
Murmuring over and over
 I'll never eat onions again.