In this tired hour
of spent beer cans
and cigarette butts
the chewed ragged ends of
hoping for some sort of change
waiting for the winds
to turn aside the drifting course of the clouds
for the sun to shine forth

I am forever dreaming of sunlight
warm upon my face
like a kiss imagined from some lost impulse
some half-remembered thought
from years running on end
through my closed eyelids
light seeps in, making the darkness
a blurry pink-red

In this silent hour
when the world still sleeps
and dew drips down upon the closed buds of
the pink and yellow roses
in this darkling hour
while the sun sits still behind the shadow of the world
I circle and circle round
an unwished-for thought
trying to pretend that I had not
dreamed of some simple happiness
tried to fight this impending mania
of trying to reach out and grasp the stars themselves
of flying in that silken purple sky
like fabric draped upon heaven’s mantle
and like some Copernican madness in reverse
I imagine it is not the world that spins on its axis
only that my heart revolves like a gyring top

This thing kindled
my soul catching fire
regretting that this too shall pass
evanescent, ephemeral
when my heart turns to grey ash
and the embers die
and the life-giving warmth fades
and even the taste of smoke drifts away
leaving my soul once again
senseless and numb

Is even this brief coruscating incandescence
this brief piercing happiness
worth the soot stained, ash filled aftermath?
of my pondering what it was I wanted
and why it is I forgot
desire creeping on me like shadows
dispelled by the faint rising of the dawn returning
stirred from this dreamless sleep

My memories wear with each remembrance
trying to cram this lingering feeling into the
stoppered bottle that is my soul
each thought becoming smooth with frequent handling
until each detail is pared down into oblivion
and all that is left is non-descript stone
sinking into the vast abyss of my burned-through heart
plunging into deep chasms sight unseen
leaving only trace ripples upon the still water
faint waves like concentric circles of light
or a whisper travelling through the rarified air
each crest leaving me tremulous
each trough like mute, tranquil despair
until I am still again
unmoving
dreamless
silent
hope at last quelled
smothered
anesthetized
as I prepare to face the waking world