Morning Covers You
1
We extract
light, bleeding
it out one
diamond-shaped
hole after
another.
Finger the results.
Remediation
in form
or placement
to best
advantage?
At night
loneliness cradles
our bones.
2
You arrange our bodies to greater effect,
presuming lesser horrors
to be less.
A list emerges.
Refuting one,
accepting another.
Choices fixed.
Ecstasies of failure
purged.
Morning covers you
like a blue
shroud, so pale.
So cold
and bitter.
This originally appeared in Boston Poetry Magazine in April, 2014, and on this blog in October 2015.
O at the Edges 
Mm this is really nice. I needed my bones cradled last night.
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My bones needed something this morning!
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An exquisite poetic pearl woven of the most delicate blades that connect our inner worlds with hidden, innermost worlds of others. Elegy of human life is condemned to the dark, tight frames – I like it very much!
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Thank you, Leila. Those frames can be difficult to negotiate.
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Wonder who the ‘you’ being addressed is?
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When I wrote this, I had a particular photographer in mind – Matthew Brady -but I don’t think that matters much.
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This one is a puzzle … intriguing …
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If I were to write it today, it would be much different. But then I could say apply that to just about anything I’ve written.
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Roberto, you stoke my paranoia with this one. You also excite further admiration for your versatility and maturity as a poet and writer.
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Just a little more coal, F, just a little more coal. And thank you for your kind words.
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