Soft Lays the Night
Soft lays the night on my beating heart.
Not one, but two things have I spoken.
Don’t forget to turn in your key
when you pack up your things and sashay away with a crisp apple between your teeth
the last fruit of a weary yoke.
I remembered you at the dawn.
When the mists rolled in through the asphalt cracks and the brakes tore through the treads.
I was there.
I was there when you cried and shuffled to the three-step dirge.
Don’t look away now, in the soft of the night,
in the pillow of the patterned fall.
I will be there again in the blazing 1 p.m. sliding the card in the slot.
Quiet laps the evening on the memories of my mind,
On the tired places that cannot pull together but lie naked, beating at the surface.
Sleep in peace, and pass on to the Time, my wild-hearted friend.
La Reisytal 
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