Sorrow Is Endless

First we must sow, and then the harvest comes,
We sow and then we harvest, every year,
Spring, winter, summer, fall. Falling, one tear
Replenishes the ocean. Do the sums:
Sorrow is endless, The cold machine hums
That is the greening of the world. Right here,
In this cold place, supported by our fear,
We harvest, weep, sleep, creep, sow, reap the crumbs.

Still, every season sorrow's what we know,
It is the surest outcome, the true yield
Of all our sowing, and in every field.
There is a cycle, yes: new plants will grow,
Love will arrive, and leave. Today we sow,
And endless sorrow is again revealed.

Driving Blind

I left behind what people leave behind,
So no one understood my feelings yet.
I hid a smile from everyone I met,
And told them you and I were driving blind,
That you were leading, and I didn't mind.
I didn't. Sometimes, though, we all forget
How men and women really act. We met,
We spun a story out, and were unkind.

Was there a sudden gust that left a mess
Among the papers? Did you see a spark?
Did you unbutton me then, on a lark?
Were new times coming for us? Did you guess?
Did I try too soon to unhook your dress?
Did you remember smiling in the dark?

At Three O'Clock

At three o'clock, on every afternoon,
I think of her, and also every night
As I stare at her pillows, as moonlight
Shines harshly through the window, as the moon
Whispers her name. I'm in a soft cocoon,
Trapped in the memory of something bright.
I try to move; my interrupted flight
Proves nothing but that I've been love's buffoon.

I told her that I loved her, every day.
Sometimes I even said, at three o'clock,
"I'm always yours." She said, "You are my rock."
I now no longer have such things to say,
I've put my feelings and my fears away.
The port is gone where my heart used to dock.

Standing in My Way

They're standing in my way, but I go on,
Mistaking disinterest for decadence,
Hard-heartedness for mere insouciance,
Regard for subtle sneering, dusk for dawn.
I'm pretty sure the threat of death is gone,
But we're still left with blank intransigence
As logic fades to insignificance
With them. I watch them. They stifle a yawn.

I'll move, but maybe I won't walk too straight:
They won't want me escaping, not this way,
But once I'm walking, they can't make me stay.
Solvitur ambulando. "You ingrate!"
They'll shout at me, but I'll say I can't wait,
No, even though they're standing in my way.