metonymy4u

i dreamt a honeymoon of stars
beneath a convulsive sky that
we took to be our
guardian of eternal strife—
it failed us and our love grew
to a tune of overcoming, a song
of the impossible.

where is my love in the night?

where does she rest?
am i the last of my breed?
am i undone?

deaf ones i ask don’t
you know the fiddler of your morning feet,
your trumpet warrior, your

blazer of morning light?