11th hour

In the eleventh hour

while butterflies took rest

back in their primal cocoons

and the babe crept weightless

slowly within the womb

while clouds rolled heavily

over the horizon, to dream

in their blue satin beds

and the twisting worm at the grave

rested on a box of wood, full-fed

and in the depths of dark i woke

and reached out in the black

to touch the small of your back

let spiders collapse themselves in webs

i will sleep with you in bed.

for Zach

Sept 25, 2002

Didsbury Ab

Canada