Detached

Quilted stratus, high above my troubles, 

Roseate, heralding the breaking day. 

I in lonesome quilted blanket huddle, 

Sallow, darkness’s cover fades to gray. 

—

Unburd’ning pines cast needle tines aside.

Aimless zephyrs cut wild ‘cross the meadow.

Laden I lay lamenting swelling tides,

Fettered by sheets — by schemes wrought in shadows.

—

The thrush hails pale blue dawn amidst the reeds.

Mice preoccupied in dewy clover.

While best laid plans and stale frivolities 

Besiege. I stand up, remain bent over. 

—

The soil teems, it heaves, breathes, it churns.

As deeper still, below my woes, the core

Trembles. I rage, the torch will never burn,

Return to sleep until I wake no more.