TOMORROW
I would give all this up tomorrow
if a break would just come my way :
those crashing waves, those reeds, these
blithe and sunny days. I envy your
escarpment - how that cabin in the
darkened woods absorbs your
soul and provides for your heart.
You may listen to me, as you choose,
or turn your good ear off and walk away.
I am willing - you understand? - to
light a match beneath your kindling,
and stand and watch this all burn down.
I have no investment here. There would
be nothing more to say : watching embers
smolder, would you then shrug as well?
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