A Book of Poems I have no place to go except by foot I have no secrets. In a listening ear Every sentence sounds what its about Just out of frame. As a photographer Can break hearts simply by showing you young Handsome, strong, and on a mountain bike The band plays and you wonder if the song Is one you heard before. An old score reeks Of mildewed paper if not taken down To hear about love or exotic lands To seek regret. You know where I am found In so many words. Give me a hand
