Maurice Lament

I crouch at my window and Watch nights steady progress. The hadida’s lament the days end And the doves have cooed away the even-tide. Cold air plays notes on the palm leaves Beneath my window scratching out a melody on my pane. A blanket of cool, grey clouds covers my hemisphere Promising no sight of the stars in their black sea. Alone as the buildings and Cold as them, too, I sit And breathe in the cold, Cold night. Inwards I turn, to spend The rest of my life Watching tallow trickle and wick burn. 1994