Have we met, sir?
You ask after who I am
You are introduced to me as a sailor
I am introduced to you as a love poet
But I do not write on love
I write on the inevitability of death
Have we met, sir?
You ask after who I am
I am atoms bent in the art of impersonation
You say all artists are liars --
Actors, writers, music makers
I say if they are equivocators
My family is undertakers
And I write on the inevitability of death
Have we met, sir?
In the scales in the chimes
In the cane cut back
From last year's blackberry vines
In the mainsail luffing in a red morning sky
In the incandescence lost
When you close your eyes
Do you know your way home by the stars?
Do the streetlights pollute where you are?
Was it you, sir
Stirred hurricane lilies by my bed?
Put pennies in my mouth
And count each life I have led
Is this the bridge that descends into the ocean?
Is this the blue I never come back from?
Are you the grey eyed one
Are you my last companion?
There was always something in the snow
About you that I wanted
Was it I so loved the light when I was the dark
Here we meet, sir, here we part
