The happiness of man is devoid of chlorophyll no doubt because its specific condition is to evolve in the darkest and dankest caves of the heart. - LeRoy C. Breunig

"DEPARTURE

The horizon slopes away

The days are longer
Trip

A heart hops in a cage
A bird sings
It is going to die
Another door is going to open
At the end of the corridor
Where a star
Begins to shine
A dark-haired woman
The lantern of the departing train

("Departure")"

POST

Not a head stands out
A finger rises
Then it is the voice that one knows
A signal

a brief note

A man leaves
Up above a cloud that passes by
No one goes in
And the night keeps its secret

One looks for some other words but the ideas are always just as dark, just as simple and singularly painful.