I feel as If
I am basking in the warm light
of a star that died long ago
As if I am the moon
refusing to disappear from the morning sky
I am the raccoon
who could escape his trap
if he would only let go of that shiny metal object
A trout swimming against the current
to a birthplace no longer there
A man trying to fill the void of lost love
which he knows was one of a kind.