Tuesdays...

[alasanon]

...sometimes have nothing going on. There's a headache waiting to blossom behind my eyelids, but a small nap may correct that. This week is old poems week. There will be three.

Here's the first one, from some four years ago.

enshrined

I've put you away for the moment
away in a soft silk-lined box
held up to the light for the last
You didn't see the lock as you crept in
I hid it behind my back
Strong scented cedar, waiting for silence
You seemed tired, perhaps lonely
I couldn't save you, so I held up the box
It was pretty, wasn't it?
You liked it, didn't you?
I almost wept at your smiling face
You told me that someday you might wake
refreshed, as from a long slumber
Yet I knew those words as no truth
I had said them not to you,
but to myself
when I put my self away in a box
lined with green velvet, pungent with cypress
and locked it away from your eyes
You can't escape from a box, locked
and put away in a cupboard under the stairs
You will sleep, happily, dreaming of me
and I will sleep, uneasily, dreaming no more