Everyone feels they got here from the very far away,
not just the astronauts and divorcées and poets.
Some want to lose the directions how to get back,
for others it’s a long time without cell phone reception.
Nothing here can be drawn with a ruler,
not even rain although even this high up
there are beer trucks. What feels like a hook
pulled from deep inside may be old wisteria vine.
Give it ten years. When twilight comes
from the lake in the lake’s blue mask,
you might think you’ll never have to pretend again,
from now on you’ll know yourself
but that’s only because that self is disappearing.
You’re right, when your mother died,
she did turn into a peregrine. I don’t know how
I can be so cruel to those who love me
or how they can be to me. Sometimes a rock
comes hurtling down the path
but there’s no one above you.