The Left Column
 A Recent Poem
  Can Heartache exist at Dawn?

Is heartache
      ever real
     at dawn? 
       Hail!  The conquoring angels
    of the sunrise
      ride those thundering clouds
    from far across the horizon
    of moonbeam dreams
         carrying the truth
         of the light
         forward
        the illsions
         of the midnight
       destroyed 
        by the great light.
     serpent has been cast down,
    snakes are not evil, no hells are needed now,
       the perminance of their temporary
      shelter
   is shattered,
        like a thin coat of 
      beach ice
     by just a little bite of sunlight,
      first rays,
   like first dreams,
        first breaths,
     first realization,
    first time I met you,
     first in love, first in life,
    first literary cleche . . .

  The day of Alast
   is at last
      every single sunrise
     each warrior angel
  protecting mankind
   from the evils that we create  
     in our own minds
   and then go off and battle.
     
     And so, at that time, the obviousness
      of the victory of light,
    always a methaphor
      for something else and yet exactly
   not a methaphor at all,
      the total realization 
      of the infinite
        continuation
      destroys the darkness
   always wins . . .
      protects all of the righteous,
  teaches the unholy to become holy (as a mentor)
     cuts  out the thought knots of  
      confusion and hate
    and shows us how to love everybody.

  Love everybody.
    Love Everybody.

  And so, again, the question,
      can heartache
    even exist
       at dawn?