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​​Morning Window
(January 31, 2023)
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1 /
​
There are usually not​
Any images involved
​
My mornings of late​
​
Only a mental approach
To shadows and light​
A flash, a swift, a sudden
An unconjured telepathy​
​
A first moment​
​
As I look up from sleep to find
That life can emerge again​
Perhaps this time,
For a final requital​
Perhaps if I close my eyes this time
And look within,
I can dream away
This icono/plastic
Sunrise
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2 /
​
I cannot run with you through these new Regions of corrosion​
I cannot climb into your passing
Circus trolleys
​
I will remain here, on this thirsty
Frozen ground​​
For now​
Is the flavor of secrecy
​
For here
​
Is the face of fortitude​​
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3 /
​
You can run off into the postpartum
Of complete surrender​
You can cast off your jaw and shoulder
​
Into the stillness of a static wind​
​
What good is the wind
If it cannot pass through us
​
With ease
If it does not bring forth
A useful reprieve​
​
What good to me is a wren,
Or a swallow
If he sits plump
Up there on that static wind
And pretends that he is flightless
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4 /
​
Now comes the hour
Of morning's realization
​
Now the day of the people​
Can begin again
With deceit​
And end again
With deception​​​​​​
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