each day I go to work
— alan jefferies
Each day I go to work
there’s a poet waiting for me.
Mostly he’s too deep in his own
paperwork to notice my arrival
yet every now & then
he’ll drop what he’s doing
& nod his head ever so slightly
before a kind of grudging silence settles in.
He must wonder why I keep coming back
to this room above the street
where he writes, late into the night
He must wonder why I don’t
follow him out one morning
under a canopy of stars that are vanishing
why I don’t count him
among the chorus of waking.