my end of days

where did i leave my end of days, i may be lost, somewhere
making coffee all dollopped with my caramel, watching hamlet
dance his daddy's sarabande, dizzied by those sparrow songs

i've tossed some clever fineries into my parlor, covered windows
with old widow-wear found secret in your alley, and barely
brown magnolias float with subtle glamours in auntie's china bowl

and where's that clever laddy, brown-eyed and laughy, serving
ice cream to the church girls waddling in my lane, maybe making
peonies, maybe chatting up the stranger who has bedded neath my stairs

and i can't remember where daylight starts, how night can be so loose
or where i put the green-eyed boy, who summered on my pillow
ate my biscuits full of butter and teaspoons full of jam

and i can't go tip-toed cross my old veranda, do my pivots, do
extravaganzas when a.miller snaps her heels, and i can't remember
why the sun still leaves me cold, cause i've hoarded kisses every night

or should i cook some grits and bacon, blush wild turkey cross my lips,
i'd be a tasty treat for dawdlers out waiting for the dawn, but
where did i leave my end of days, and put the green-eyed boy