THREE HOURS

I have been used to adoration

only at night.

The quiet, the soft

places of thought and response,

analysis and even temper.

An extended road where focus is rewarded,

challenge is invited and fulfilled.

But now I have seen you twice.

Two early mornings,

leaving me drained,

a broken clock without function.

I have turned

around

to face the day.

Three hours earlier

and the world is new,

smelling the new smells,

greeting the starkness of green and blue

where before were grey and silver.

Now I can see you

and not be broken.

My hours are open and

I will have patience

for your confusionand your stealth,

the strength of your desire for love

that strangles your ability

to accept it.

I will repeat my offer

with the sun for my sponsor,

disarming you

with sunburned smiles

and strong brown arms

like your own,

easing the transition

from a non-committal twilight

to a fierce noon.

- Jason Monios 2007

Jason Monios lives in Edinburgh. His publications include Acumen, Poetry Scotland, New Writing Scotland, nthposition, Umbrella and The Guardian.