by Dan Gerber
You begin the moment I wake up,
and even the moment before,
abiding companion, herald of my life,
though a little too strident at times.
I have little white pills to calm,
and even still, you. Sometimes
I think you've finally walked out,
but a little neglect is all it takes to win you back.
When you've stayed too long, I might
demand to know why you've chosen me.
What I may have done to summon you.
What retribution you represent.
But you tell me nothing more,
only that you are part of what a body feels,
only that you're part of what a heart endures
and what a mind transforms.
You are, after all,
like the fog this morning,
obscuring almost everything,
till a tree emerges just beyond our yard,
and then, again, a fence corner
coming almost imperceptibly
back into view,
halfway up the next hill.
and then, again, a fence corner
coming almost imperceptibly
back into view,
halfway up the next hill.
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário