Like That Umbrella You Left On The Train
Like that umbrella you left on the train
the moon is moving east to west
wants to be returned, held close
while its warm breeze opens
and over your head grows dim
is emptied then reaches out
the way the lonely go mad
look for a place that’s a there from here
where everything on Earth is lost
̶ what you once held in your hands
is still falling away, filling a great valley
with moonlight and the heaviness
keeping it in place so you dead
can find the rain with your eyes closed
and count the seats each evening.