Reading these poems today, I feel almost irritated at myself. This next one, I want to go back in time and shake myself by the shoulders and tell me that I needed to ask such questions to myself, not somebody else. This is another poem for Bops, written in that worst year of my life. Perhaps I'm too hard on myself. Perhaps I DID write it for myself, but never knew.
Do you believe in miracles?
Do kisses waken sleeping beauties?
Do falling stars grant your wishes?
Does God answer prayers?
I don't know.
I believe in you.
And I wish you did too.
Written in September 1986, for Bops