The Cool Morning

The cool morning lifts from upon my shoulders

                        To make way

                        For the day

                        Of drudgery for pay

And life’s labor’s unforgiving boulders

To Atlas I turn, my companion of the road

                        How, tell me

                        Can it be

                        That a man can break free

From the cold hard weight of this earthly load?

Step lightly for the unknown lies beneath

                        The ground

                        Or to be found

                        In the forests abound

Starving coyotes gnashing their teeth

The sun rises higher and my removed heart weakens

                        My mind

                        Beats behind

                        Longing to find

The cape shore where hope’s lighthouse beacons

Deep black secrets I can no more afford

                        The extents

                        Of expense

                        For the sake to make cents

Of a day built on forefather’s hoard

The evening lowers, softly it lights

                        To rest

                        On my breast

                        Restore to my chest

Sweet forgiveness of redemptive nights.