Sunday, May 20, 2012

New poem


Morning’s minion

In every house
I’ve ever inhabited,
In every bed, I’ve slept
Facing the rising sun.
I may not rise when
Her rays cross my face.
Her rays may not penetrate
Closed eyes, clouds or curtains.
But like a long time lover
I know when she is there.
My heart soars to her caress
Like little birds arcing in the sky.
When she settles in the west
I settle, too
Sighing into evening
And into bed to face
The rising sun.

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