From the train I can see the
moon flickering through pines
that go on forever.
I can hear the rain falling pounding on
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
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.