1973 for my brother Herbert
Deep in the jungle the path runs narrow
Winding and twisting yet straight as an arrow.
All along the path the animals call
The wild ones scream! with no sound at all.
Life is as definite as all of this
Pure hell, it's true, but too pure bliss.
These days a rock is all you can trust
"So solid!" you say, but Lo!
It's mere dust.
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