pardon this
the ill affair
of marigold to mayfly
trumpets folded softly
to the burning of the day

stay the night
that I might tell
of others long since missing
praises once we sang
now silently oppressed

touch – o please I beg you
touch me with your waking
spin for me a web
of words I never heard

have I no more
to give you
wisdom not to worry
dare we speak of living
as a cup of something less

and sit with jam
as curses fell
denouncing all that was
pretending not
the best we couldn’t see

blue the fingers
morning paper
folded on your knee
anxious eyes to reach
beyond the door

as one unto another
beg me stay
to turn the page
gather now the reasons
for the letting go this way

as flesh to fire
as words to wing –
dam the bloody river
and tell them all
I watched for you always

years before the locust swarm
nights betrayed the fourth
taking back my innocence
holding back the storm

slept before the news was come
of dying on the pasture
wore your name in two
against my skin

now the day is trading
all I meant to tell you then
of centipedes and winters
not as long

of blooms along the eastern ridge
deep the weeds to marry
babies pushed from branches
paint the lonely night

stay if for a moment
heed the waning of your soul
shifted as the moon became
a story I shall tell