From the train I can see the

moon flickering through pines

that go on forever.

I can hear the rain falling pounding on

the skylight.

Out there nothing is by design,

the stalled heart, the broken tree.

Through the window the stars reveal

the belly of the world from

which we came.

Far off there is a golden wolf howling,

chanting to the midnight Gods.

Morning sounds give way

to palms and screeching Cicadas.

What I have of you is a photograph

and memories.

Tell me night-time dreamer

why you hold so many secrets

in your heart.

When I look in your eyes all I see is star dust.