midnight was exhilarating
afoot, steadfast with a purpose
of leaving one place
to get to another

but it turned over to one in the morning
and that was nervousness of time,
of premonition and marvel shock;

then time was two and I lit a candle
in my bedroom for you
but you said three
so I read a book that often calms me

though three turned over to four
and you still haven’t come by my door