On days like that wet July in ’92
when defeat rained helplessness
after a vote count 
of a mere student election;
on days when truth like sunshine
embarks from the clearest eyes of friends
whose honestly
it is said
pours from bloodied wounds,
in hesitant approaches,
they come,
words
          so easily
          so articulate
          so logically thrust
like daggers,
and people wonder why
I choose
To shut heart-window
Now and then. 
Ithaca
October 1995
[from the collection 'Epistles: 1984-1996]
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