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Sufi Style<BR><BR>
<a href='delicious.php?PHPSESSID=ce6affc6e7189f23be28055a038af0af'>delicious</a><BR>
<a href='nutritious.php?PHPSESSID=ce6affc6e7189f23be28055a038af0af'>nutritious</a><BR>
<a href='archives.php?PHPSESSID=ce6affc6e7189f23be28055a038af0af'>archives</a><BR>You say I never write, and maybe-
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MAYBE-
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this is true.
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So now I'm writing,
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little to say I'm afraid,
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but your name came up in conversation-
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were your ears burning?
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It gets so cold at night here
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when the lord of the manor is home.
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It stands to reason:
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he has our money to keep him warm.
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I imagine he sews it into a robe
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of tens and twenties;
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lying on his bed he can drift asleep
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to the smell of my bankruptcy.
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But I have my work to carry on.
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My hands may be cold, but
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all the heat I need is in my head.
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There the furnace is ever-stoked
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with a fuel of my own design-
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it burns too fast
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but it is inexhaustible.
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