Hafez Comes to Mind

A tenderness sweeps past, aiming for someone,

By God I feel the air. I open my shirt—

Blind man on University Avenue

Baring his chest—

Hafez comes to mind:

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye

That is always saying,

With that sweet moon 


What every other eye in this world

Is dying to 



The eyes hear plenty.

But still, you have to close them now and then

And trust the air.