Gypsy Borders, Mr. Mann

Night and day we walk,
my brothers. Night and day
we find our way through
the country. Barns and
yellow fields, the amber
leaves of harvest. Now
the snow fills the hollows
of our steps. Moon-
licked streets of the city,
my sisters and lovers.
You can speak. It is
permitted. It is the kingdom
of touch. While we can.
While the heart pounds
on the door of the chest.