Birds of Regret

Am I not he who is visited from time to time

by birds with crippled wings?

Am I not he who takes refuge in illusions

when the birds of regret descend?

He who stares long enough

he finds even illusions evasive,

illusions like illness in his yellow eyes?

Am I not he . . .

who goes back to himself

and falls in hope of sleep

before the birds of regret descend?

(1/9/1996)