I believe I rolled over in my sleep last night
And before I could hear your footsteps
Descend on a fresh dawn of this month
Of October, you had already sealed and locked
The door behind you and joined the procession of stars
That recedes into the ever-growing brightness of the Western sky.
You couldn’t have been dressed in more than nightclothes
So when I woke and didn’t call your name
The house was full of questions.
All I expected I saw looking out over this early city
From a window of our house:
A series of long distance drivers and freelance deliverers.
Your bare shoulders flush and fluid as acres laid down on this earth
And I wonder what they tell you.
Some steady drops of pre-dawn light funneled through the palm
Of a leaf and the moon is a shattered street lamp
On the corners of Rattlesnake Drive and Fortune.
These days are becoming colder by a wind thinking a thousand thoughts.
The fruit of the vine is bursting magnificent grace, blushing
Into a thousand peculiar memories.
The snows can come now at any time in this part of the world.
You’ll try to count each and every flake and I’ll watch your eyes
Blur, fall and fail.