Written for the book Ronin in the Temple of Aphrodite, this poem expresses his frustration at his alienation from both past loves and his daughter. From 2006.
how hard grows a heart in silence
the violence of isolation
the absolute zero of self-immolation
and soon there is nothing but ashes
ashes and aught and naught
for seeking fingertips to hold onto
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.