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.