“Aubade” by Wes Matthews.

​As nature’s heads awaken, I hold
My desire by the sacrifice, morning.
Florets in the light of solitude, sunshade

Emeralds crowned this cynic eye,
The overlawn of song birds drawn
Endless to new sites for lovemaking,

Wings flitting with their want in the open.
By noon, I stand in the shadow passing,
My own contrast, the absolute smallness

Of my living. There is something left for me
To become: honeybees never stop for divine
Order, not once need to be told pollinate or life is short.

One day, I want to be so certain that I am made
To love that I never wait for command or even wade
In the afterthought, I just carry along with it—my wonder,
My wandering, whatever the world needs of me.