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 
❤
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Thank you!
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Very excellent poem. It has the reflective quality that I really like–
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Thanks very much, Cyn!
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This one puzzles … who is you? ecstasies of failures? lesser horrors?
Intriguing to ponder what might’ve triggered this … perhaps obvious if read amid 2014 current events?
Confusion aside, I am captivated by “finger the results. / Remediation” – resonates as synchronistic answer to a yet-to-arise question. I shall tuck this away for the rainy day.
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This was sparked in part by Matthew Brady’s Civil War photography. Weird, but true. 🙂
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