26 April, 2007

You, driving, bare-armed
In the chill morning
Trespassing from the
Long part of the day
To the lit

I find you don't mind
The challenges that
Certain situations present to you

A sign of good faith
Is all that you require before

The evening draws you
Back onto yourself
The engine still warm when
I lay my hand on the bonnet

Waiting for you to come in
From the garden, as though
You had physically gathered

The hours in by hand, I can well understand
Your reluctance to let them go.