SOMETIMES

Sometimes
we do not get it
not forgetting
even at death
when our life
is set in knots
even from the wonders
of the undergound
admitting the birds
are flying South
in the December sky
emitting sounds
remembering
our poetry's words
from my mouth
as a span in thunder
of riffs from my sax
reaching out to the Bay
of a Cape Cod beach
as dawn breaks
and we relax
this morning hour
catching my breath
with human speech
awaking out to God.