So It Goes

you’ve sweated
beside the migrant
echoed his rage
while locked
between rows of cotton

slept under cardboard
in urine soaked alleys
while rats shuttled
through garbage cans

stood on a hill
under a dome of stars
and hurled poetry
at the moon
while the wind
knifed through trees

cursed the cold
embrace of darkness
the gypsy woman
with kisses of fire
her large ebony eyes
cried out to you
to carry her beyond

rivers of loneliness
past mountains
of sorrows
and make love to her
in a valley of graves
while birds sing

--Henry G., Adult