JEANNE MURRAY WALKER
November, Two AM
All night the caution light blinks
in the mountains. Through the wilds
of Pennsylvania in the blueblack night,
a mail truck toils up a mountain.
The words inside cannot be taken back.
There are four things we have to remember.
I try to recall what they are.
They all begin with darkness.
November, Two AM
Something to Work With
Trying to Save You
The Two Selves
Where Can I Go to Find You