Night poems carry more baggage
They are weary with words
Consonants crisp
Vowels dragged through the sand
A desert cooling
Under endless stars
Is no place for a poem;
This one searches for an oasis-
Or a night-blooming cactus
she can sit under and adore
Maybe she will shiver in the silence
Or awaken to coyotes
with too much of nothing to say
Either way, this one needs to lie down
Rest awhile, set down the burdens
Of the journey-
And in the morning, rise. Begin again.
No comments:
Post a Comment