Lullaby

Close your eyes


This autistic love
walks towards you
carrying its  own window of regret
carrying a broken arm
carrying a trace of calm

I sing to you of a poplar forest
of the morning light
in a badly tuned tone


My song carries long gone deficiency
a drafted version of fairy tale love

A mother breathes sounds
safely, into the dying light
well intentioned
suffered, tainted, doubted
hoping for quivering eyelids
precipitating
the forgiving, eventual morning light.