II

 

SOMEWHERE NIGHT IS FALLING

Somewhere night is falling

Somewhere a man stands outside a church

too bitter to enter, yet bound by doubt to that place

Somewhere a woman fills a glass with clear water

and flowers drink their last moments

in the last light of the fields

Somewhere a child stands next to a wall in the desert

Somewhere there is a house with a portrait of Beethoven

and a child who wonders if it is a picture of her grandfather

Somewhere there is a boy learning to wait

Somewhere, for the sake of his children, a man

writes what he has seen

Somewhere, for the sake of his children, a man

will not write what he has seen

Somewhere there is a son with the memory of a father’s

touch on his back, giving him courage

Somewhere a mother gives courage to thousands of

mourners at her son’s funeral

Somewhere a man measures the dimensions of the prison

precisely

Somewhere a woman plants a garden in front of the prison

Somewhere thousands stand where once

the square was empty

Somewhere a cave is lit by a torch

Somewhere there is man who walks beside us, without a

hat, in the rain

Somewhere a man reads a letter and folds it carefully

into his heart

Somewhere a man weeps for what he has found

Somewhere between Paris and London, a man peels an

orange on the train

Somewhere a man waits in a train station with the taste of

coffee on his palate

Somewhere a man waits in a city for a woman who

waits for him

Somewhere a man holds out his hand before we know

we need it

Somewhere there is a room lit only by a painting

as night falls

Somewhere there is a man who is not afraid to live in a

woman’s hope

Somewhere there is a man who has not forgotten anything

and has written it down

Somewhere there is someone so close to you, there are no

details

Somewhere a woman’s gift has not been deepened but

corrupted by loss

Somewhere there is a man who has given away everything

and stands in the rain, grateful

Somewhere the dead are leaving a sign

Somewhere there is a man who meets his late mother

in Lisbon

Somewhere a man makes soup for the village

Somewhere a man tells a woman she is not

as alone as she thinks and she understands

she is precisely as alone

Somewhere a man remembers a blue shirt left behind

forty years before

Somewhere a man inscribes the back of a photograph

and dates it twenty years before either of them

were born

Somewhere there is a painter carrying a spare egg

Somewhere there is a man driving away from

the marketplace with cages of unsold chicks

in the back seat of his Peugeot

Somewhere a woman stops for petrol, thousands of white

origami birds pressed against the car windows

Somewhere on the shoulder of the highway, not long

before he dies, a man opens the hatch of his truck and

shows a woman his paintings, all imaginings of her body,

how her skin feels against his mind

Somewhere a woman wakes in the night and knows

no one will ever write a poem for her

Somewhere a man answers courage with courage

Somewhere a man fights for nothing

Somewhere a man digs his own grave in the forest and waits

Somewhere a man builds the room where his child

will be conceived

Somewhere a man and a woman leave a note in the rafters

Somewhere a man and a woman leave the threat

outside the door in order to defeat it

Somewhere a man wonders how many thousands of years

men have lain with a woman

just this way

Somewhere a woman slips off her scarf without untying

the knot at her nape

Somewhere a man writes of that scarf

and the fist of the knot against his back

Somewhere rain is falling

Somewhere a man is repairing the night, one word at a time

Somewhere a man sends a message “spoken

before hands ever wrote”

Somewhere night is falling