I stand here and wish I could sit down.
I sit here and wish I could lie down.
I lie down and wish I could sleep.
But everything is talking, everything is asking and begging and calling,
and other things are balking, other things are screaming and yelling and mauling—
Let me sleep.
I will break.
Atlas, man, I don't know how he does it,
but I'm not Atlas, and my spine's not titanium,
so let me…
crawl to my place, my haven, and let the dove's wing
come down around me,
and let me close my eyes underneath the dove's wing,
warm on warm
infinity of peace.
I can't afford to do it,
but I would empty this bank of troubles without hesitation for just a day,
to be under the dove's wing.
to be shielded from the incessant things that pound on my door.
Just a day.
Let me nestle under the dove's wing,
so protected from the tapping on my window.
Wrap me in her warmth so I don't break.