The tears are hiding behind
the corners of his eyes,
welling but held at bay.
The days are swelling
like the dead porpoise
shot in the head.
Rarely...meaning so much...
from love to good steak,
to your streak of good luck.
And I dreamed Zorba the Greek
said to me, 'If you eat grapes
you're left with the stems.
I'm left with the days of my life
and the grapes have all gone down
And all I have left
are seeds and stems.
Midnights Voice
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/zorba/
