the best days that we ever have and know
are just so many heartbeats in a span
we have to form a story from such things
as are to hand within our daily dance
a thousand different ways i could have said
the things that now lie choked amid the weeds
and you, a steeple, torn from off a roof
aren’t meant to point the way you’re pointed now
the best days are a tangle on a bed
and laughter so ridiculous it hurts
but you must feel the hot earth on your feet
and give away the things you never had
To share is human:
