I dreamed I called you on the telephone
to say: Be kinder to yourself
but you were sick and would not answer

The waste of my love goes on this way
trying to save you from yourself

I have always wondered about the left-over energy,
the way water goes rushing down a hill
long after the rains have stopped

Or the fire you want to go to bed from
but cannot leave,
burning-down but not burnt-down

The red coals more extreme, more curious
in their flashing and dying
than you wish they were
sitting long after midnight