unremembering

when to that first thin voice

at the crossing point
I listen

before the house stirs
and the engine of the day disturbs

I don’t go back to sleep
but stand in this new morning
ankle deep

unremembering myself
and everything about me

despite the chill
the dripping rain
the first voice of the day
does not complain

unlike me
it does not have a name
on which to hang itself

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s