JULY MORNING, TOO EARLY Poem

JULY MORNING, TOO EARLY Poem by Lyn Lifshin

JULY MORNING, TOO EARLY Poem

JULY MORNING, TOO EARLY

 

almost night still. Insomnia

is more with me than any

lover. I could be on some

lovely lake in a tent of

sleeplessness. Nothing like

a child’s cove of dreams:

blue stars and shining

things hanging. No, we’re

in separate dented boats.

Who knows how they
could hold us. Only the

cat’s breath touches

mine. I haven’t felt what

I want to feel, what I

shouldn’t. If I cold just

reach out to touch you.

If I just did