Of late, I kinda got used
to the way the ground opens up
and swallows me when i walk my dog
or that thick sided music the wind
can make when I run for a bus.
Things have come to that
and each night now, I stare upwards
and I count the stars. Do you know
each night I get the same number.
When they will not come to be counted
I count the holes they leave.
Nobody sings anymore
and I remember once after counting
I tiptoed to my daughter's room
and she was talking to someone yet
when I opened the door
there was no one there ...
only she, on her knees, peeking into
her own clasped hands.
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