the clock stops, it's 7 past sunrise
rain clouds gather in widow's veil
I am studdering your name, missing
you to a North Carolina town
sunday comes, but brings no relief
I find that if iI close my eyes I
can see your silhouette, circled in blue
lonleness pounds my door, rings my bell
I wonder if it would not be better
if you found work closer to me
rather then pluck my heart, perpetuity
leaving bones of white nakedness
Joe Howell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/7-past-sunrise/
