A Wrong Turn

Morning Has Broken

The world is not in order today, my Love.

Your words have jagged edges and I sit

Wide-eyed beneath their imposing arches,

Fearful of what lurks in the crevices

That form quite accidentally between the

Intended heights of their construction.

Perhaps you rolled on them in the night, my Love?

Your words have had their smoothness snapped away

And you break them like communion wafers,

Confessions of your love torn from a

Frightened stumble of thoughts of loss and the

Anticipation of my going.

It will be hard to see today, my Love.

Your words are torches but this morning they

Cast long shadows on my steepened path,

That cruel trick of light that balances

The scales with a weight of dark you never

Mean but cause despite your every effort.

The world is not in order today my Love.