Is it really about life? Always about life?
Some say it's more about love and how faithful
you are. I knew you once, but I didn't
know you. I didn't love you then
and then I did- for awhile.
Look through the long window, see green,
all green, until you don't. The sky, overhead
hears our prayers each night and methodically
forgets them; deaf in its thick, grey vest
the moon has other things to worry about.
Each star sings its singular hymn of light,
a constant choir, so constant we cannot hear it,
like the rush of cars on the freeway or the chatter
of children in a play-yard or a tv left on
in the dark.