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RANDY ROARK

 

 

Richard III (1592-1593)

 

     Happiness is the art of never holding in your mind
     the memory of any unpleasant thing that has passed.
                                                         
The Buddha

 

At first dash
like a circle in the lake
what I have said is true,

 

but in my memory books
everything is faced with artifice—
tailored for a story I’ve now told

so many times it’s become a ritual,
and what really happened
comes back only in dreams.

 

As the shadow of an eagle searches for a mouse
under the snow that covers the stubble
that’s left after harvest

 

I stand between my shadow and the sun.
I am only where I’ve been and what I’ve seen.
I step into wherever happens next.

 

What was I saying? I was in the
middle of a story. I could begin again
if you tell me where I stopped.

 

The brittle alabaster moon,
I’m not sleeping, a notebook
that once was full of words.

 

 

 

[Excerpt from The Shakespeare Poems.]