POEM: Morning Glory

Leaning over in the dark April chill
Is the warm curve of you.
It is not a lust of the feminine I seek
In you, but rather the refuge
Of the turning into you, that
In the tempest of my sleeplessness
You are there – unaware – perhaps
Of all the sliding down that I do,
The slinking panic and the
Balled up fear that at times like these
Wells up in the vulnerable parts of me.

Still –
Leaning over in the dark April chill
I have the warm curve of you for shelter.