Saturday, July 9, 2022

Another 3 O'Clock Taupin

"When I die in my sleep," she asked before bed,
"Will you be so good to put my pajama pants on?"
"Of course, my love," I said to one
Of her novel new honey-do items.

It wasn't until 3 AM at night,
When some words from an old song
             "Even when you died..."
Filtered in like a dream

That I sat bolt upright
And started bawling the tears
I had saved, it seems, for this moment
When my wife, through the transference of art

Became that old starlet hounded in death
For her nakedness. It was something about
The friendlessness of angels 
And the deals we must make to walk upon this sphere.

And so private tears came from a most public song,
Tears like a storm in Oklahoma 
That may even end sometime,
No one knows.