The hub of my small universe
I sit beside where flocks of sheep once drank
Where ladies planted flowers long ago
And tended stubby palm trees now so tall
My mother pushed my pram here and I thank
The stubborn who had sense enough to know
Our Plaza really is the best of us
The homeless sleep here next to me and I
Can think of no splashier ending than
To dive into the fountain if I can
If it gets warm enough before I die
This is where we say goodbye to it all
This is the place for all the rest of us
I remember life and brush back a tear
Would it be better if I just forgot?
The Sterling Silver rose still blooms right here
Just as I wrote of it so long ago
I did not expect to be understood
Yet I was and it blooms inside of me
I lost it all then got it back again
Right here in this place through lines scratched in pain
Like cuts in the thickening hide of me
But if you read my books I think you could
Get some idea of who I am and why
I linger here these years no matter what
Would it be better if I just forgot?
But, will you ever understand what you read?