1
         Reading the poet on Nothingness,

I suppose it is a higher calling than love.
         And yet. love
is what I have been given,
         not Nothingness.
Who am I to argue
         with the lesser fate:
twenty-five years tomorrow.Lisa - 
     2
         Squandered so much:

but most of all
         those long silences together,
sometimes at noon over lunch, sometimes
         very late at night
after a long day working, those
         we squandered most beautifully of all.

     3
         One bird, then another

begins to sing.
         outside the store,
where you try on dresses.
         The black is beautiful,
but so, too, is the blue.