Joseph Torra
Poem for Del Ray
My study is
low and small.
A thinning
moon my guest
in the window.
March gone—
April’s come.
How many more
chances to
welcome spring?
I hardly
see my friends
these days. So-
cializing leaves
me weak, snares of
talk entangle.
Yesterday’s
disputes could
not separate
black from white.
Ah, we delight
for such a
short while. I
shiver to
think about it.