Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Thoughts at Midnight
At midnight all the fears come flying in.
Thirty seven fruitless winters are gone.
The ghosts of failures and compromises
Knock at my door asking to be let in.
I’ve always gone to sleep in beds littered
With dog-eared books and unfinished poems:
Somehow with Frost and Keats and Neruda
You’ve found a way into my waking dreams.
What time is it in your part of the world?
Are you awake, like me, a book in hand?
Have you spent years pretending all is well?
Have you felt alone and incomplete too?
Nameless one, you and I are kindred souls.
Though our wandering paths have not yet crossed,
I’ve waited for you all my lonely years,
And you’ve wept for me on long winter nights.
Love this may not be, I know not the word,
But at midnight I send you these, my thoughts:
So that you get to know what I’ve known,
You’re not drifting, you’ve never been alone.