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A Dumbfounding in Early May

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  • A Dumbfounding in Early May

    The long fingers of your dusk
    Have made it difficult to tell
    Where day ends and night begins
    The moments no longer fall
    Into neat convenient slots

    Likewise there is the problem
    Of your eyes neither sky nor
    Cloud coloured but somewhere
    In between where names
    Are no longer important

    I wish to know what to do with
    The hoarded light of you I have
    Gathered behind my eyes
    Place it on the empty stairs of sky
    Or in a firmament close at hand
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