i.

Louder

Than weekend noise,

When Main was all the school,

Little haikus in Keats were stretched

Along.

ii.

In Rome,

Beneath the birds

And yawning shadows, you

Balanced permanence with life’s

Cascade.

iii.

Two things

Are near tonight:

The snow and dawn’s ascent.

Once early dying lips described

The hush.

iv.

Outside

The little window

Lay the leafy graveyard

You watched while counting syllables

In rows.

v.

The news

That you’d die soon –

An English poet’s death –

Wasn’t worth the wasting breath

To tell.