Lost amid signs suggesting many paths--
A message seeks to penetrate my thoughts,
Bold printed words impose their claims straight off.
Such satisfaction must come at a price!
This voice I hear inside no less gives sight,
Sheds light on dark ideas, a simple prayer.

Those stainless-crafted words follow steel tracks---
Time's urgent signals scattered in white noise.
The moon knows what I seek beneath this street.
Starry places that never see the sun,
Sanctuary, where shadows edit light.
I trace their shapes in tongues that bare the soul.

The subway makes each stop on Dante Street
Poets who pay the fare all ride for free!

c.1996, 2011