As I Said, This Was

I Never Killed Anybody And I Never Developed An Intense Level Of Hatred For The Enemy. Because My War Ended Before I Ever Put On A Uniform; I Was On Active Duty All My Time At School; I Killed My Enemy There.

It Was Hard To Remember In The Heavy And Sensual Clarity Of These Mornings; I Forgot Whom I Hated And Who Hated Me. I Wanted To Break Out Crying From Stabs Of Hopeless Joy, Or Intolerable Promise, Or Because These Mornings Were Too Full Of Beauty For Me, Because I Knew Of Too Much Hate To Be Contained In A World Like This.

But Something Held Me Back. Perhaps I Was Stopped By That Level Of Feeling, Deeper Than Thought, Which Contains The Truth.

What I Mean Is, I Love Winter, And When You Really Love Something, Then It Loves You Back, In Whatever Way It Has To Love.

As I Walked Briskly Out The Road The Wind Knifed At My Face, But This Sun Caressed The Back Of My Neck.