I see you family
       of tired eyes,
           looking down from your
frames on my
    wall like a battalion of
           captured without
   a fight. I see you

Ruth Schechter, sleepless
       poet, you walker at midnight,
          you eater of unscheduled
          you wrestler of so many late-night
    twistings and turnings on your
bed of nails and sofa
             refuge. I see you

Danny Schechter, puffy-
           eyed at your computer,
  talking words onto
                    the screen,
            waking us with your
3 a.m. mumblings, then rising
           early, and-gone! I see you

now, as I saw you, sitting
          here with my eyes  
          as night.

November 14. 1999

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
Contact Bill Schechter