THE RIGHT TIME FOR POETRY

The middle of the night or that time
just before dawn, when the soul can’t sleep,
when your ear rings from the sounds of the universe,
when the fans don’t drown things out anymore.
This is when I write this poem, after I’ve sent a love
missive to the woman who no longer loves me, when
I have admitted to her and to myself that it is useless
to struggle against this love, when I have surrendered
to it because it is what is most alive inside me.