or even can imagine
how he does it
but I have heard him say
he sits with it
until it is ready to speak
he did not tell me what "it" was
but I had a guess
the essence of the poem
the hurt child
or the young woman bruised
the boy or young man
caught on the edge of life's knife
and I who felt
almost like an intruder myself
listening to Donny confide
imagined him sitting up long nights
silently beside that essence
a companion more than a nurse
a silent understanding and compassion
waiting out the bewilderment
until the essence stirred and took shape
still a shadow in darkness
but now with arms and legs and hair
a face Donny could almost discern
looked over at Donny
and shared the horror of experience
for Donny writes like I do
or like I think I do
he makes personal and clear
those times when being human
bears witness to the ugliness
the rest of us inflict
upon those chosen as scapegoats
I write what I see
when moonlight probes a diamond
I did not know I held
and for a moment what people feel
caught in the turmoil of the threat of death
reverberates in my whole heart and mind
but Donny, or I-think-Donny writes
after a similar reverberation
shakes his whole body
emotions he forgets he has
a mind wide and deep enough
to cradle another soul
however long it takes
for metaphor to grow
terror to shape teeth
and all the worst of what men do or say
to also find what makes them still human
and makes the darkness so dark
we almost cannot stand the starlight
that shows ourselves that much more clearly
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