Poem 24, June 24

 

When all emotions

 

When all emotions surge thru me,

keeping me awake in a lonely room,

I close my eyes to find you.

I listen for your voice

until I hear it,

unmistakable

as the first whip-poor-will

in May.

 

My life no longer drains away

like Old Seventy Creek flowing downhill,

& my sleepless, closed eyes are able

to write words on eyelids, poet

that I am by want, need, by choice.

I have a bottle of Amaretto for you,

its taste a little bitter & there is one bloom

in a blue vase. Slowly,

 

I open my eyes to avoid apologizing

to you for plucking a bearded daylily.