Because we’ve had two days of sun
The primroses are something else!
And the messages trickle in.
The dreams laid down like tracks in sand
What dreams have I to share before they’re blown away?
What loves have only their scent evoking in my bed?
What makes me want to conjure you here?
What herbs?
What flowers?
What silken winds?
What playful fingers?
What ticking clocks. What melting clouds
Have brought you back?
What feather blown mountaintops
Have ever rested on their haunches
And said ‘I did that?’
And yet, the messages trickle in.
Telling me this or that
Or making something out of air
But the messages trickle in
Telling me how important
The breath before the bawling
And the peace to recover
When you’re done.
And the message trickle in.
Listen.
Jamie Zubairi 