and days go by
long from the hot summer sun.
bears are in their nest.
i need peace
from the crush of the masses
that sadden my soul.
no more noise of
endless boring chatter from
sad desolate lives.
the gears of a slow
world grind even more slowly
now that time has changed.
and profound darkness
creaks out of the coldest nights
when the moon fails to rise.
take me where the old
jazz man blows his sorrow horn
in some warm dark bar
where everyone
silently dresses in black
drinking sweet absinthe.
to where poets write quatrains
with worn out pencils behind
frosty dirty glass.
we leave at the dawn
hand in hand to the short day
where we must now rest.
fall into some bed
down soft comfort warm in love
crying gently to sleep.