goodbye july
spent the stormy afternoon next to a big bay window The Storm
at a long familiar dining room table We lay in our beds as in a tomb
hemming cloth napkins on a friend's mother's awakened by thunder to the dark
sewing machine in which our house was one with the night
and then light came as if the black
weather permitting roof of the world had cracked open
i'm going back in the morning as if the night of all time had broken,
to finish and out our window we glimpsed the world
birthwet and shining, as even
sewing machine goes on the list the sun at noon never made it shine
of things to save up for
-WB
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too scatter brained to
read books lately
so, a bedtime poem
instead