HOLY SATURDAY, 25

ENTERING MY SLEEPLESSNESS last night
just briefly, for a moment, the little goddess
with the mauve ribbon smiled at me
from a lad she’s always passed me secrets

Then she vanished floating off to the right
going to empty the bin with my waste
- the soul’s cigarette-ends and poem-ends -
there where haughty and full of past youth
the sea simmers.

Holy Saturday, 25