I feel forsaken
like a rolled newspaper in the rain.
Is that You? in the window box?
Is that You? magnificent in a woken engine?
I don't mean to be sullen,
a crushed flower with a brave yellow bloom--
I'm a vine growing in through the window
of your abandoned holy room.
Oh honey. My fingers flat upon
your smooth chest made of smoke,
I am rain falling ever further from her cloud.
Call me back---use your voice of spade-shaped leaves.
I will come, across the lawns and waters
to kneel at your feet
and sing.
__________
for Word Garden Word List--D.H.Lawrence
Music: John Waite "Missing You"