The Saints and the Gods are Optimists

And according to my calculations, they’re fifty percent right.

I saw the sun painting a row of yellow houses.

I saw the harbor part and scores of people move through
the narrow path between the skyscrapers of water.

I heard a woman singing, a voice so ordinary it was extraordinary.

I heard a speech for peace, who knows—maybe one day…
And on the very day I heard a friend of mine died,

I saw him sitting at the bar, looking up at, dare I say

the angels?—nursing a pint of beer he can take eternity to finish.

Long Road Home
When the Bull Stops Fighting