mornglazed

mornglazed eyes
tiptoed dreams and their whys: they

are nearer to us to you to me these
lovetangled ephemera sub-

conscioned into day, brought up
to an interactive tea-pretation


The above is another possible response to Rukeyser’s Song, in a mood quite unlike the earlier one:

The world is full of loss; bring, wind, my love,
         my home is where we make our meeting-place,
         and love whatever I shall touch and read
         within that face.

Lift, wind, my exile from my eyes;
         peace to look, life to listen and confess,
         freedom to find to find to find
         that nakedness.