Epistle to the Missing

There is a fresh regret

For each new sun we serve---
Something’s forgotten
Each night we sweat our sleep—
Unremembered light
Can’t know what rain accrues—
Dark’s debt will be repaid
By temperate mornings to come—
What value we’ve earned
Will be weighed against the balance
Of those future days whose price
Is undetermined—

There’s no logic to our argument

With time—there’s no compromise
With the laws of the planet
Where we live—the truth
Is locked inside our own
Discerning eyes—there is
No saucer chasing us—
There is no beast inside the wood—
There is no ghost cocooned
Inside the tomb—there’s
No monster we can’t outrun—
No devil can capture us—
There is another waking we’ll regret—
There’s a hole inside our house
Devours every mouse—there
Is a dawn—redundant—empty
Of any joy—a conscription
To a void we can’t avoid—
A plenum we will reject—where
Everything owned will disappear
In retrospect—and everyone we
Cling to will go missing
In that whispered stillness
We will will—
For Laurie