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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