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9.
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Trying Times
Fresh breeze blowing in through
the window.
We hope it will reach us by this afternoon
So we can make love, so we can make love.
It MUST reach us before the morning,
For we aren't even sure that the morning will come
Nor that the afternoon will be golden.
We keep our hands busy with knitting
and anxious glances out the window
where the sun still shines bright at high noon.
But the small shadows cast by our eyebrows disturb us.
Under these circumstances, it is hard to have faith.
Under these circumstances, it is hard to believe a thing.
These are the times that try men's souls.
We consider a cup of tea, but
cannot bear
to rise from our chairs and hear the clang of our nerves
in case it is an omen or an ominous sign.
The afternoon, the afternoon, how old will we be by then?
Will it be too late? How old were we this morning?
We do the math quietly, nodding our heads,
beneath our eyebrows the wheels are turning
The gingerbread wheels, with crumbs slowly falling
Grinding up a number or a figure to show us
If we will make love, if we will make love.
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