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.