Unless you ask
I will always make you go
before the birds invoke the day,
leave our scent on the crumpled
sheets to the cats.
Though it is somewhat embarrassing
I love most among poets Aristophanes
and sultry dreams of cherubs that twitter like
juvenile birds drunk on adventure.
Unless you wake me to the soft sound of Coltrane,
the rich taste of espresso, the breath of fruity herbs,
I will always make you go before
the sun breaks the horizon.
Painting by Michael Lipke (1953)