our own impermanence is concealed from us.
The trees stand firm, the houses we live in
are still there. We along
flow past it all, an exchange of air.
Only the woman who has had to face despair is really
convinced that she needs mercy.
I miss you, D.
Twenty years now
Where’d they go?
I don’t know
I sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they’ve gone
And sometimes late at night
When I’m bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin’ a ghostly white
And I recall