Reprieve
When I was all but spent
And broke, matchsticks and maybes
Scattered in a ragged heap,
All the foreign tongues, they spoke
Of gamblers' luck and empty deeds
Bestride the charity of sleep.
Then I faltered, exorcised,
And lost, floundered and famished,
Pinioned on a barren rock,
Stabbed and manacled by a frost,
Ice bound words and severed thoughts
Destroyed the bio-rhythmic clock.
And then the trash machines
And dust, purity and promises,
Renewed their former selves again,
Pristine and oiled, effusing trust
In lovers past and yet to be,
The softest song, a sweet refrain.
When I felt almost dead
And cold, hopelessness and happenstance
Stirring up a lazy storm,
A chance reprieve, a love of old,
Of something lost and something found,
Returned to keep me warm.
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