Just now, a galaxy like a puff of dust,
a giant star sucking inward. Eyes
in the orchard we cannot see.
Just now the bullet
in its twisting was almost animal.
Just now flies leaking from severed heads
of figs. A pair of geese
comes back to earth, a tooth ricochets
in the sink. How many years
before the lovers get home,
the fabulous ones we never had
that were no good for us anyway?
We pretend to eulogize the dead
for the sake of the dead. We pretend the goat
isn’t hanging skinned from a tree. Just now,
we’re all a little bit famous. Time is that music
making it right. It is alright. Centuries of silence
are where we come from. It was summer
and then not. It was cold. Everything was everything
it could be. Yesterday, we were in the kitchen
which seemed important. A single brown banana
seems important. Not like the age of stars
but the towers we didn't climb, the rain
that didn’t fall in our hair, the wind that never
pushed back. Eventually it all starts singing.
Nothing we do can make it stop.