Friday, June 5, 2015

The Evening and the Morning

Beloved death, I call upon you each
Day that I live, pull you toward me, lust
For you with every breath. I'll be your dust
That settles on the lampshade. I will reach
Out to embrace you, everything you teach
Of darkness, shadows spreading on my bust --
I know that you are certain, that we must
Fall ever-forward to your awful breach.

Until that day, I celebrate the day,
Illuminating light-shafts through the clouds,
The hyacinth that burst with purple scent,
The running rabbits, leaping lambs at play,
The swarming, talking, ever-living crowds --
I will enjoy the days that I've been lent.

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