The night devoured me.
\nAte up my soul.
\nIn the morning
\nthere was only dew on the grass,
\na hint of rain,
\nand I stepped into the garden
\nto cut a rose.
\nThe Queen Elizabeth,
\npink as a shell from a dark reef,
\nglowing with dawn,
\nto light up the table.
\nTo raise me to the level
\nof the town\u2019s
\nold chapel,
\nwith blood stained glass
\nand grapes hung in the windows.
\nA way to have coffee
\nand contemplate a prayer,
\nor news of the world.<\/p>\n
The birds are reporting its stories,
\nbut the ants don\u2019t stop,
\ntoo much to do,
\nnot enough time to do it.
\nThe birds fill me in,
\nand the lilacs blush with the gossip
\nand I hear enough.
\nThe street hums with traffic,
\nand the cadence of morning speeds up.
\nI shake off the drug of sleep.
\nRead the newspaper
\nand do the crossword.
\nWar will start in Iraq today,
\nand unreported,
\nan extraordinary child will be born.
\nAll in the hours of a day,
\nlike licking ice cream
\nto the edge of a cone,
\nthe ocean drained dry
\nto the last rolling wave.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The night devoured me. Ate up my soul. In the morning there was only dew on the grass, a hint of rain, and I stepped…<\/p>\n