You are what one wishes most
when chased by dogs
or caught in a lie.
When it comes to pointing out
the right direction, you are better
than north.
This way out of the labyrinth!
Through here to the true sky!
Good luck charm over public doors,
alarmist, savior, box of embers, of rubies.
There can never be enough of you for me.
You are what the homebound desires,
or the crowning fetus, or the grown son
who leaves his mother and father’s house.
How brightly you beam at the worker
who strides, once and for all,
out of the office in which
he was poorly treated.
Two weeks notice be damned!
Only after sauntering
out of a poisonous place
can one be glad to get up
in the morning,
does the eye tic cease,
can one catch sight
of the American goldfinch on the purple thistle.
If only I had seen you
during those infernal violin lessons
with Mr. Brachmann.
If only all farewells were happy,
this world not too beautiful to leave.