August 29

No moon for all this rain–
I’d almost forgotten how

to say it, how the night
sounds on the eaves,

a fallen world, the maples
heavy with it, the pines’ roots

re-establishing themselves,
how quickly we all forget.

I had a life before this,
with space enough,

and didn’t want
for much, there were

the stars, the moon,
and other silent sentinels,

some emptiness
but I can’t

quite remember
how hollow it felt,

the thought of you
spills in, now,

like warm marrow
in my bones,

or the yellow glow
of the low full moon

that I know is behind
these clouds,

this release, this relief,
I know just how

a parched world
dissolves,

easily, and with such
immense gratitude–

we’ve waited,
after all, oh how

we have been
waiting–