I couldn’t help
But notice the tear
That glinted on your cheek. And wish to rub the fog
From the reflective surface of your mind-mirror
To de-clutter the crowded cabinet
Of old knick-knacks and stained memories
·I couldn’t help
But spring to action,
Fighting away the tormentors of your psyche.
Subconscious. And supplant wild weeds with native small
Flowers in your fragrant mind-garden.
I woke. I heard you before you wept
·
I wrestled, also,
Within myself
--desperate to deliver deeds instead of silent,
Hearing ears. Too often my verbal impulses
Dominate my auditory skill.
This time was no different. I’m sorry
I couldn’t help.
