I clutch to me
  Night
my Elixir
Deus Ex Machina Covers
between my legs
allowing comforts there
routines
smells
on-coming
hints
nightly
perceived;
face down novel
TV silenced

l

Lulls Lurking
voices stilled
and I

talk to my
Domed Muse
pretending
that I am
not aware
of it there
anticipating
its intensities

pursed
like my cat
in my lap
warmth
flowing
languidly
to where the stillness
of my being
ultimately
lies down with
that delicious
need
which renders
my night times
stiller
with this new alone time
not known
since screaming kids
and panting husband
gone
and I
hoist
a gentle
ladle
to lips
have my mouth
enjoy
the ice cream
it had never
really tasted in

the Rushing Past
but now
mine
to savor
in this my
widowhoods;
the one lost to Rushing Time
and then the one lost to
dust
but now never
having tasted so good
in my silence now owned
so often craved
a race it seems
well run.