Night birds return to their roosts, and the wind runs off to some
newer place
It is just like the night
To play tricks when you're trying to be so quiet
Without realizing he's slept, he wakes again
Another three-ten
The old man overhead snuffles and moans
Soundlessly the bedroom door opens
And a ginger cat pads across the room
Vaults to the window ledge
And gazes into the night
Perhaps this is the way it will be
Together you could have done some things
No more warm spot on the sheets to move to after she's woken
No more warm spot on the sheets to move to after she's woken
You're older now
She'll be harder to find
To be passed by
While recording that which the act distances you from
To work with words
To discern shape among the shadows
To get it right
To wait on the judgment of others
To sleep
Places we've been
In the early dawn he awoke, and did not mind
He thought, Once I tried to kill myself
A long walk on the ice
There's more than one way to do it, you know
His heart stuttered, and he went on
No comments:
Post a Comment