Save Us, Said the Sky
Dream: From across a room, a woman motions me
with a look, Can we have a word? and disappears.
Next morning, reading Treatise on Poetry, used copy,
someone’s underlined, I want not poetry but a new diction
because only it might allow...a new tenderness.
Later, out for a walk, You’re all going to die,
chirped the birds, and you’re the only ones who know!
And so are required to write, said the trees,
lines that open back to life. To save us, said the sky,
from this night, your night, that’s not our night.