I
dreamed I called you on the telephone
to
say: Be kinder to yourself
but
you were sick and would not answer
The
waste of my love goes on this way
trying
to save you from yourself
I
have always wondered about the leftover
energy,
water rushing down a hill
long
after the rains have stopped
or
the fire you want to go to bed from
but
cannot leave, burning-down but not burnt-down
the
red coals more extreme, more curious
in
their flashing and dying
than
you wish they were
sitting
there long after midnight