he comes limping to my yard
with a mouth full of dreams
speaks of the dappled milkhorse
our ghost in the town square
the milkman had a blind daughter
he tells me this
her eyes were the blue hymns
of morning glories
where she walked
the stones wore purple
where she danced
the lightning split the elms
that was a long time ago he nods
I ask him where the years went
he smiles at the beauty of it
the angels opened a door he says