- The Best Laid PlanPerhaps it wasa morphine misunderstandingwhen he came homefrom hospitalshoweredshaveddressed in a freshshort cotton robeand slipped like aletter into an envelopebetweenCrisp white linensarranged with asmuch precisionas a king of ancientspiled uponheaps of creasedwhite pillowssunshafts playingthe silver threadsin his black hairPerhaps it wasa morphinemisunderstandingthat when he lookedabout the room fromface to loving facehe would simplyroyally nod,close his eyesand thus signaledexitOn his termshis timerather thanopen his eyestime after timethrough eleven daysand eleven nightsto ask withWhispered wonderwhirling intoimperial impatience“Why – am – I – still – here?”Morphine misunderstandingOr grand finaleHis heart danced, dippedand leapt againFor eleven days andEleven nightsShe sungSwing Low, Sweet ChariotMagic of the Night, Bring Him Home,I Dreamed A Dream, SummertimeIn a continuous loopuntil her throat rang rasped rawCombed his hair with colognewet his lips with balmwalked to the edge ofthe abyss with himwatched from behindhis shoulders at him seeingthe Universe spreadinfinitely before himpoised to step offOnly to be returnedAgain, and again and againRested with the crescendoof Sibeilus, Tchaikowsky,crashing the walls of hermind as he raised gracefularms and conductedin silent connected concertuntilthe sudden scent of apricotsfilled the roomAnd he smiledthe smile of kingsand left on a sighacknowledgingUniversalincompetencereconciled and forgivenFin************************************************************Just A Regular AppointmentRoutine –they planned on lunchafterRoutine –just a rule outprotectionRoutinethese things almostalways benignUnless they’re notroutineatall***********************************************************The Important Date - A Light HaikuThere rushing he runsHe’s late – He’s late – that dateWonderland whirring