We caught the noon bus,
Placing armrests between us.
A tidal week left thin,
With a hurried hollow weekend.
Carved wood grains, an imitation
Slopes sliding slowly towards a navel
Phosphorescent wanderings, suddenly, lonely
(In a heart) this old blue collar cable.
And in it twists to call and flower and
Spin bright limericks from these lips.
And beat and bounce and calm a heart
Out by ladles.
A silhouetted stance,
Dark with night and sky
For the wandered and saved,
Cradled in its sway.