the tao of the swan

i dance the tao of the swan

caught in a fisherman’s net

my heart creaks with the bed

as i offer a soft caress

you haven’t slept here in months

but still i reach for you

 

morning’s first light fills this silent room

like milk pouring into an empty bowl

i watch the warm illumination expel the dark

and am reminded to pray for your soul

 

i always knew you’d leave

impoverished poets may be good in bed

but they make lousy husbands

and like a frightened child

on her first merry-go-round you wept

till the vows you made you no longer kept

but he was a poet too

so under the carpet you were swept

 

and i am left to wake and search

the abandoned side of the bed

and as consciousness violates

my sleepy head

i stare at that empty space

and whisper, “i miss you”

 

***