Spinning Down, 1999

It’s dark again, and we have searched for quite

some time for that still center, that space

where you and I can co-exist. Your face

these days is hard to bear, your eyes so bright…

I’ve filled my room with candles, to keep the night

away. I’ll step to a more measured pace;

resist the fruitless urge to simply race

in spinning endless circles, locked in might-

have-beens. Speed will not save us. So brace

yourself — it’s time to slow things down. Hold tight

to what you know. The fragile tree of light

you gave to me — the still and shining lace

of silver branches, falling glass. Its slight

geometry holds something true, and right.