In morning, before the day, when quiet prevails,
no cars pass by, the cats asleep, the lady of this large house
sleeps in, for me: I rise and begin this poem of nothing
worth troubling the nerves to feel, stark memory of what I lost
among peregrinations. The sea was as warm as the city,
and I drinking the air, alone, imagined myself happy.
(26 August 2013)
copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander