the wind at 6 a.m.

i guess now i have to haul

ass on my own. my dog, my tree,

my home, my life. all put away,

in the chambers of my heart.

damn it woman. how can it go on?

i chase your scent, the ring in your

sound. the laugh in the rain, the pound

in your heart. and there i stand.

though broken i am not. i never said anything

to this thought. but you who made me whole,

when i said i could no more. you made me move.

in a direction in front of me.

the wind walks on rice paper. no trail of

you i see. footsteps in the river of

forgiveness washing me free, today and forever.

this is what you left for me.

as i sit alone in this bed of

my own humanity. i feel your touch of love

and there is a 6 a.m. in every hour. you are

in the sun, the moon, the stars, the fog.

you are in the laughter of my

sons and the tenderness of my daughters.

your steel of spirit in the doves on

city cables. in the potted sage.

put me in my proper place,

when you receive me in His kingdom.

until then coffee and cigs;

6 a.m. in life unrepentant.

-to Jane and Hank-

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