To My Heart

Heart, you’re wearing out;
those two great cracks
where you broke and healed
stiff with grey scar

still flex and close
around your duty
like a hand around a working tool
readier every evening for rest.

For all your wear you are
softer than you’ve ever been;
the woman you love
grows ever dearer, the least

creature thrives on your benign
neglect, and you’re forgiven
the days you work in darkness
and feel nothing at all.

July 4, 2012