Goodbye Distracted by the search for words. Attic Relics The old street A man selling hot pretzels, peanuts from a cart. Letters, photos tied into bundles. There should be a word, to throw over the shoulder like salt or rice for luck. *** This Light …is mint green through the trees, a red splash across the clouds, golden strands skimming open fields; If love is not enough at least there is this light. *** The Beach The Day: Oh what comes on the wind. What air, what light can do to a day. The lighthouse, all whitewash schoolhouse red. The Dream: When wind and light diminish I dream white rocks stained red, fire, flames and whirling flesh.