A slow, soul fulfilling Saturday morning
Listening to Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson
Looking at photographs
From downalong, and backalong
Daydreaming of lullabies, and sacred moments
Waiting for the rush
Which when it comes, will still be a surprise
Such that I find references, from my past
On the windowsill
Photographs, paintings, and portraits
On the wall
A Rothko, reclaimed from a previous life
On the bookshelves
All of the poems, which cover up all of the loss
