Recovery of Sexual Desire After a Bad Cold

Toward morning I dreamed of the Ace of Spades reversed

And woke up giggling.

New presence in the bedroom, as if it had snowed;

And an obdurate stranger come to visit my body.

This is how it all renews itself, floating down

Mothy on the shallow end of sleep;

How Easter gets here, and the hard-bitten dogwood

Flowers, and waters run clear again.

I am a new old man.

As morning sweetens the forsythia and the cats

Bristle with impudent hungers, I learn to smile.

I am a new baby.

What woman could turn from me now?

Shining like a butter knife, and the fever burned off,

My whole skin alert as a radar, I can think

Of nothing at all but love and fresh coffee.

Fred Chappell