Hope at 4am

after Yves Tanguy

Not in fact as a weightless bird which has just taken flight

nor a cliff of layered stone, for this is a sea-air scene

and the sleep you’ve laid to rest flashes past like clouds

or, as Breton said ,writing about this can only exist

as a form of love which must be the way that this

slows to a form like suspicion then reverts back to hope again.