To sigh, you
Lease breath that high up is drawn.
You meditate the elasticated stretching
Of your heart. It hurts
When it stretches, it hurts on release,
It hurts when downcast breath comes down along.
Brecht’s poetry is inspiration,
I am told, to the downtrodden;
But, to return that book to the library I went.
For it is not poetry that I need on others’ feelings composed
(In any case I figured the library was closed),
But, your love to keep the light
Running on the filament.
When the dog-days of this hurt is through
A home to return to; to old bread and love.
To take out of safe keeping the sacred vow.