follows me in the dark. But as
I reach to it I grasp at air. It’s black
and large as my garage. But like my keys
I can’t put my hands on it –

And as my keys I lose it
for it to turn up again, the silent friend,
the wall flower. Peering out
of the clouds as a brief shower. It doesn’t

talk. But I it listens. It walks
behind me in the distance. It’s my only
friend. Sometimes it scares me. So, I put on
the light. And it’s out of sight. I miss it.