July 17, 2017

When I wake in the morning
I search for you.
I look for you across the sheets
I overturn the pillows
And tear up the bed clothes
I hunt for your scent
And pause to hear your sound
But you are not there

It’s the wild desolation of the morning
A beach with companion waves
And the distant cross of an albatross
Still too far away.



July 17, 2017

It has been a while since
I stared at the lonely moon
And made my way among stars
Through the labyrinth of the night
With that belief of gloom.
The night is not oppressive
I find no detritus of an expired day
Nor meet growling phantoms,
Fashioned from dust clouds,
As I turn down an alleyway.
Streetlights are not candlelights
Moonlit flowers are not wreaths
And my rumpled sheets
Are not submerging waves
Just a bed on which I sleep.
And it’s because of you –
That my lines don’t flow
Wounds are bound, blood is stanched
I feel no burn nor taste the salt
For you have made me happy now.