Tuesday, October 6, 2009

"Morning Yellow Summer"

(In honor of this Indian summer...)

Morning Yellow Summer

Waking in morning, white sheets,
curtains open onto yellow brightness,
clear yellow, orange tinged, already warm and warming,
the promise of white roses, the day ahead, I can see it,
the shape of it,
I can get my arms around it.
I am singing on the inside,
I am singing songs of blindness on the inside,
I can only sing of today
and they are still alive and I know where I have to go.

And they are still alive and I know where I have to go today.

And the room is furnished with
everything I have ever loved and
everything I will ever need
and they are still alive today.

I know it’s not heaven, Catherine says, “Not exactly,”
but it is today, shaped like today,
feeling like today, that’s all.
This iron trellis the white roses climb,
this plot near the road, near the freeway,
near the town, nearer to something
I don’t yet know
and they are still alive
today.

©JEF 2008

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