One Heart.

One Heart

   It is late afternoon and I have just returned from
   the longer version of my walk nobody knows
   about. For the first time in nearly a month, and
   everything has changed. It is the end of March, once
   more I have lived. This morning a young woman
   described what it's like shooting coke with a baby
   in your arms. The astonishing windy and altering light
   and clouds and water were, at certain moments,
   You.

   There is only one heart in my body, have mercy
   on me.

   The brown leaves buried all winter creatureless feet
   running over dead grass beginning to green, the first scent
   less violet here and there, returned, the first star noticed all
   at once as one stands staring into the black water.

   Thank You for letting me live for a little as one of the
   sane; thank You for letting me know what this is
   like. Thank You for letting me look at your frightening
   blue sky without fear, and your terrible world without
   terror, and your loveless psychotic and hopelessly
   lost

   with this love

   From Walking to Martha's Vineyard by Franz Wright, [c] 2004.
   Reprinted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf.