You whisper dawn again and I think
damn, you’re going to go. You rise
and I can’t catch my breath for you
speaking your soft night’s end song.
Some is little lost by you with your goodbye,
my whole self aching that I can’t go with you
to listen to you shape the air,
craft words rise from your lips.
Your breath, a soft melody,
breathes life into some deepest part of me,
your tongue, the master,
conductor of the music music music
fading me, a ghost to haunt
the set pedestrian plod of silent day