Joseph Auslander

Found this in my new (to me) Modern American Poetry book.  Joseph Auslander was born in Philadelphia, PA October 19, 1897.  He was a student at Harvard and became a teacher there in 1922.

TOUCH
I hear a cricket at my window sill
Stitching the dark edge of the dawn; and now
The climbing siren of a distant cow
Rouses the sun over the eastern hill.

A cock is rapping in four rickety words
His challenge to the sluggard; and a bell
Jargons like water dripping in a well;
And dew is in the throats of all the birds.

I need but outstretched hands and I embrace
The luxury of leaves; yet, while I lean
On the long coolness, I can feel the keen
Light of your fingers drift across my face!

This was pretty similar to the Saturday morning before Easter for me.  I call it:

EASTER EVE
I could hear the distant sound of a rooster saying
Like an old lady lying on the floor about to die "Help me". 
After about three times I knew it wasn't our friend's mom.
The wild turkeys had wandered through our camp
At every broken twig they gobble gobble gobbled!
By 6 a.m. I wanted to start some serious turkey hunting.
The dog wandered back and forth begging for a trip outside
I stayed in bed as long as could.
When I try to let her out she's too afraid of the turkeys to leave the fifth wheel.
In the comfy coolness of our bed, I stretch and reach toward my husband
Get back on your side! He replies with love.
It's not his fault, we're used to a king size and that bed is only a queen.

j