early and late

The early sun up-lights the mist
and then dissolves it, as it
fades the birdsong grows,
the sun is strong on the wall
with fresh light, vigour

he is asleep next door, me
not, bad and restless cold
of the sheets brought me out
to my thoughts and the clock
ticking

all the green is wet and still;
packing later my books and
things for a trip to the coast
and time in the library - the
garden will have to bear my
absence, light on the sill
unseen - this little jewel

will sit quiet and wait
for my return
to finger it again and
empty my time in this place
before I rise and go
at the call, the pull
of the trigger.

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