SELF-PORTRAITS: A TRIPTYCH

I.

This moon is

here, this

light is free, this sea

       is now,

this globe

               is orange, this life

is dark, this sky

is yours.

II.

Skin, I have

     forgotten

you again. Forgive

    me. Because

of you I know

the salt,

because of

     you I bleed.

III.

Death,

           I am wearing

your red robes.

LANDSCAPE

I

have

been

                                                                      thinking

so

long

   about

       looking

I

cannot

      see

John Doe
Poet, Independent Writer
IN CONVERSATION WITH
Dean Rader