A Divulgence

  

How I envy Auden his sagacious place—

a man’s moral high ground 

With accidental virtues and bookish twists. 

Of “the self” one may ask

“what’s the answer to this or that” 

and hope for refinement.

I think that’s right 

but as always, twilight

and destiny have me 

by the shorthairs—

don’t pretend

you don’t know. You know.

Just imagine tonight

when you sleepily stretch 

at a window, seeing 

in a casual glimpse

a handful of crows 

sideways on a wire

wings ruffling in the dark

you recall the child’s prayer 

if I die before I wake

and see what you can do without poems.