Dear Earth,
I too am made of glass.
And all day I watch the glass of other bodies
move across our campus.
move across our campus.
Sun descends,
and the light of each lies down in its vessel,
and the light of each lies down in its vessel,
the wish you were here with me
this day, and you are
this day, and you are
in spirit, but ever a little larger
than my idea, ever smaller
than my idea, ever smaller
the details that are never small enough.
This day
This day
students move their eyes across the pages
of their books,
of their books,
and the beam that passes through moves
something, someone,
something, someone,
though where they move grows more uncertain
as they read.
as they read.
What I do know is this.
Somewhere the oldest cliffs
are coming down in sheets
are coming down in sheets
where a man on an ice floe plays piano.
I have seen it.
I have seen it.
And the music filled my room
where I am always
where I am always
a little behind the news,
always lost
always lost
where the music turns to water.
Somewhere a cliff
Somewhere a cliff
gives beneath the pressure
of the sun,
of the sun,
and a darkness rises from the ocean floor.
The music that you hear
The music that you hear
is
the warmest year on record.
the warmest year on record.
