THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING

1970-01-07-057

POEM #040

THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING

He said he'd die, he knew he would.
He wouldn’t say how, even if he could.
The only thing we ever understood was:
"I don't know, but it's three O'clock in the morning."

He turned to me with a knowing smile.
Did he know the answer all the while?
He said to me with the voice of a file:
"You won't know till it's three O'clock in the morning."

It disturbed me much and dispelled my rest
And late that night in the arms I love best
A startling voice echoed through my breast:
"I don't know but it's three O'clock in the morning."

I laughed and started singing a song.
But then again it wasn't very long
Till my lover asked me what was wrong:
"I don't know, but it's three O'clock............."

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the wordmaster says:
❝How’s that now?❞

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