Late
Here in my driest days
I can’t complain
Holding on
To a piece of home
How late my brother sings
As I wash my face
I put my hands in place
Inside my window pane
A perfect picture plain
How late my mother sings
How I wonder when
If when, this season ends
As I sip from my coffee cup
This fragrance loses touch
How late my brother sings
Up and down
These county roads
Snowflakes tease
My driest palms
Within your hands I place
My purity as a man and race
how late my mother sings
"songs from insomnia"
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