"Dates."
He was killed January 17th, 1994.
Every day from then on, he's been dead.
He's dead today, too.
It's Friday, February 24th, 1995.
Every day I have a transcendental experience.
When I go to the bathroom at night,
I notice a shadow rising in the mirror over my left shoulder.
It isn't mine.
I turned, and what do I see?
My eyes open in sleep.
A raven has landed on my table and in a human voice says,
cherries will be ripe in Sarajevo, the 17th of May.
I heard, and I'm waiting.