this morning came quick. vibrant
yellow. invaders of dark mornings.
ramble and bramble and fashion for
me a walking stick. something solid
to take underneath her green bosom.
in that canopy let us lose some of
last night slept in my space. moon
and lark staring through my window
your place was empty. a soft depression
in the sheets. egyptian. 1000 thread count.
is this my life? walks in supermarket
lines, examining all of the empty
ring fingers? tracing the eye-line
for other searchers. perhaps we will
bump into one another near
the canned vegetables. long since dead.
i’ll drop my Rice Krispies and you’ll drop
your lightbulbs and hair color.
then what? stammering. stumbling.
so we bump heads while kneeling
to grab our wares? do we? continue
this one life as different lives?
i daydream these things as
my fingers trace the empty outline
of you in these sheets. egyptian.
1,000 thread count. but
i’ll pass. thank you very much.
instead, here are my two
coins for the boat Man.
may that River bear me up soon.