I make an odd appearance
wearing grief
a rough fabric
fit for any weather
every inch worked over
with figures sewn
in the brightest silks
I could find

No wonder
we all love
these fine disguises
the ones that make it easier
to move in the world

fugitives of sorrow
painted, feathered
glittering with sequins
and cut glass
masters of distraction
safe from discovery
even in the open
daylight
of the city street
                        

what is it like to be
a ratcatcher in India
a leper in Nepal
or crazy anywhere
anywhere at all?
Drawn indelibly
outside the lines
you take the world to task
just standing there
offensive, uninvited
lonely as a saint
unsure of god
walking in the dark
toward some private
destination
too strange to imagine
tangent to the ordered stars
your orbit too eccentric
for even the most 
elaborate orrery
measured yet somewhere  
perhaps
in the calculus of angels
too wise and well-traveled
to find you
unforgivable
                        

last night I was with you
walking thigh deep
in the clean river
water so clear we could see our feet
moving over smooth
stones at the bottom
water sweet enough to drink
water moving with us
moving us
steadily out on its way
to join the darker stronger pulse
of the ocean
and its restless dreams
waiting for you
waiting to tear my hand from yours
to take you
and leave me behind
unripe
remembering the world
I have to learn without you