Early on the 13th
I heard the church bells down the street
I saw a reflection in my lover’s eyes
I caught the sun breaking through the curtains.
I thought of dedications and declarations
Hymns and poetry and movements like wine or ivy
All short enough to ensnare attention.
And I wondered if I’d found balance
Or if I’d stray like abstracts or jazz,
If I lit down in a country of romance
Would I meander like a fickle tourist?
Things crowded my mind
Early on the 13th.