I wrote this early in 2012.
Deep In This Night (Morning?)
Time perverted, I grasped this stress
in me, deep in the night, and I
shook it, shook it and tossed it aside.
No longer my own, deep in this night,
I seized the word and held it so tight,
My knuckles whitened, my face red.
Employed by Christ, I felt it on this plain,
here on this soft, moist, roamy earth,
and tonight for this moment, my employment seemed simple.
Sometimes I have had nothing, sometimes
I have drowned in too much, but
Tonight there is just the right measure,
Time perverted, and stress freed.
(c) Tom Bolton, Milwaukee, January 2012