Have I…

Have I…

Sat too long in the midst of things

Languishing in life’s clamour

Inhaling the smell of bustle

Expensive cologne, cheap deodorant

The yellow stain

Of hard-earned sweat

The thrust of perpetual danger

As pregnant streets groan with anxiety

Pent-breathed aggression

The fire in the belly of the beast

Flirting with imagination

Fueling the need to move with something

Less than dignity

Missing the peaceful compromise

Of the country

With its derry down ways

Dappled in sunlight

Cosseted in shadow

Lying together

Protected by an overhang

Of Weeping Willow

As the river rolls

Effortlessly onward to the sea

Too far to hurry

Too distant to worry

Counting clover to cover

The moments

Between one kiss and the next

Drifting endlessly

The idyll of a Sunday

Spent in the arms of a lover

When nothing is wasted

The call of morning breaking

The only sound

Worth the cost of waking

Have I…

Sat too long waiting

For permission…