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.