My Love of the Morning

 My love of the morning

my love dressed in dawn

My love early risen,

and risen, so still

My love whom only

the noonday could kill

My love of an hour

my love in the dust

My love who only 

does what she must

with a folded lily in folded hands

my love whom the afternoon reprimands

My love of the dusk

my love of the evening

My love barely listening

my love barely breathing

Who is my love whose love only leaves her

and lingers in shadows where no one receives her?

My love in the night

who desires the moon

and the stars all gleaming

through tired trees leaning

My love of the earth, my love of the grave

my love oif the sky, the blaze, the wave.