You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or the silence after lightening before it says
its names ~ and then the clouds’ wide-mouthed apologies.
You were aimed from birth: you will never be alone. Rain will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon, long aisles ~ you never heard so deep a sound, moss on rock, and years. You turn your head ~ that’s what the silence meant: you’re not alone.
The whole wide world pours down.
