You know me by now...
I catch you
with messy hair
under the new face
of night, smiling
miles into the workings
of my eyes,
& I'm all undone.

You're lip smoking
as we walk canal south,
the whited angles
of swan wings
tenting the water
beside your laughter.

You know me by now...
your fleet kiss is blown
across a blue broadness
that could never stop it,
never,
          never.

This murmur of moth wings,
this secret bed-shadow,
this slouching perfume of rain -
I am haunted.

I suffer these night-knots,
these irradiated musings
on your slow return,
these poems that face the corner.

Haunted men love strangely,
with hearts full of runaway horses,
hands full of cloud and sand,
and lips that repeat fugitive names.

I still mark your birthday
on my donation calendars,
you know.

Now I'm publishing
fractions of you
from 21 years ago...

But you moved on.
You drafted another
in my place. That's ok -

I'm here to tell you
that although every angel decays,
you have decayed slowest.

It is the last day of 2020
A time to say goodbye
To a year of troubles

We have learned
Who we are collectively
And what we must do
For the sake of our children
For the sake of each other
And for the sake of the planet

For what we have lost
We grieve
And for what we have learned
We are grateful