My tee shirt jumped out the window.
The sunset bellowed like a turning leaf.
Thunder did not wait to ring the doorbell.
This may seem but abandonment, and it is,
But what’s more, it is
Whispery laces of love’s lost shoes,
Derangement made tidy by
The universe, by shadows in doorways, by April’s
Rainy fingers and its blistery rings.
You can hear quiet became aware.
And to live with one
Heart bear the weight of sorrow and summer mornings.
The moon is not insured,
It has always been that way.
