You, on that park bench, rise,
cross to these empty stalls.
Come listen to my night, the dark of it.
Stand near me, hold with me, my broom
clouding the horizontal light.
Pass these hours to no end with me.
Buy a lamb, this lamb,
spring lamb born to grass,
to dust, to fire.
Tengo. Si tengo. Tengo.
Tu no tienes nada, nada salvo los pescados
y rose branches asking to twine with the roots
as dust rises in spirals to escape this earth.
Hoy tengo tres ovejas--ovejas, ovejas, ovejas--
una me da morning, una me da manaņa,
otra me da silence fading
blue into sunlight.
Come.
