Four Poems

I let you go again

The quiver; and you’re gone
where I cannot follow,
springing off the mattress
into the wide sky
of sleep, its cross-winds
and abrupt consolations,
its remonstrance and visaged
confrontations, its books
of bindings of pages of turnings,
and wonderful re-runs
of uncommon good,
its unlooked-for counsel
and the telling of the heart.
Me too, I say, let me
too go there, bomb
the flickering pool of dream
in a finger-tipping duo
...