The Good Hour
Take me
Take weariness,
My arid staleness,
My idiot,
My lethargy.

Open me,
Steer me,
Warm me.

Why have I waited.
You - everything is here.

Drunk mostly on what there's too much of
I'm blind to what has worth.

But now I remember,
Here is a sweet that
Forms a new shape with my lips,
That won't allow my ache for long.

You treat me to
The smell of leaves turning to earth,
Rain clearing the air,
A Midas sun turning everything gold,
Gold that lifts the fog that lies so deep in me.
Summer grass, you are, to sleep in.

It's beautiful to be cold here and better hot.

And just when I know,
I find the strength to go out
And forget again.




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