This grey morning away
Listening to the pounding pumped-in patterns
Of so-called rock and roll,
In the so-called French cafe
On a grey day,
I am stealing you away,
I am stealing you from your dreams, locking them
A quiet closet, dark and settled,
I am closing the door and asking you
"Gently, now and hush,"
So I can have time away
So I can steal the time
The time away, a trapped hour
Inside a long morning.
Yes, I hear you singing, inside
The quiet closet
Singing to yourself and I see
What you are seeing, in the dark--
Coat tails dangling, reaching for the limp
Shoelaces that spoon the dust bunnies to sleep.
And a vacuum, waiting in the corner, eyes
Closed, waiting to work.
You are singing now and I can hear your notes
Sliver through the keyhole, slip under the door,
But not the words.
Not the words.