I let go slowly the weight
Of another day. Leaving my scattered desk,
I open the window for a little air —
A new rain quiets the streets.
There is only this soft, splashing sound
Of a few cars driving past
On the avenue. And below me, suddenly,
A man’s voice, so vivid
As I listen to him talking, saying good-bye
In the raining night, until a car door
Slams shut and I’m alone again.
And I keep on listening, feeling the day
Running out, near midnight,
And the noises from outside coming in —
The whole restful city
Like a woman’s delicate hands
Over my ears; until even a siren, far off,
Thins out into a thread of spiritual
Music. And something is gone from inside me;
A ghost, or the days I have lived out
The wrong way. Something finally lifted.
And I feel weak, dreamy, like a small
Boy who has finished crying. And everything —
The cars, the rainy night, the man’s voice
That still seems to be talking, still held
in the fine bones of my ears — tells me
“Whatever it is you want, you will never have.
Don’t be afraid. Give up. Give up”