Head On

You ascended to the challenge! –
met the thing head on:
propitiated all the angry gods
of anxious wakefulness – enabled
a diurnal and nocturnal balance –
found the sole appurtenance
you could depend on to allow

a lasting living ease. Last night,
outside, a blasting freeze
took care of one sharp
half of context; flipside of its
howling frigid blight: the warm
gemütlichkeit delight of bundling
in your quilted bed: invoking

cavemen – atavistic comfort,
near the embers of a fire:
body warm and animal –
rocking to a gentle entropy:
diffuse as spent desire: as if
post-coital effulgent sleepiness
had crept into, replaced the air:

and you were in your blessèd lair;
and nothing in the least disturbing
pressed upon you there:
what pressed upon you – oh,
thank Morpheus for his conspiracy
with Bed, Bath & Beyond! –
was your luxurious plush purchase

of the day: into which your head
plumped softly down and deep,
and lay: as if to fall asleep
beneath a paradisal canopy
of sweet benignity: a fairy story
weeping willow. Yesterday
you found the perfect pillow.

.