Daybreaks & everyone is framed,
as well as the exile who does not belong,
no one is chosen, no one is saved
& a single thought lacks to Marché on.
Those who weep be brave, your tears
are rivers & all rivers flow to the sea,
to the sea so far, to the sea so near
you on the shore, almost as solitary

as the ridge pine helpless before & against
the forces it rails over the valley below,
where its brothers stand like paper saints.
Or perhaps your tears do not so flow
& only water them their years from fears
to escape from freedom once held so dear.



Copyright Robin Ouzman Hislop 2003
All rights reserved.
Such is my Humanity