Hour Five –  Gone                  Mary Pecaut

 

Today, outside our house

looking at your window I

want to believe 

that what I see 

in the pane

is sky –

the same wide-open sky we 

once shared.

The sky that never denied 

an obstinate hope-filled sun

& held our constellations

through the dark.

Now, I doubt the cumulus full sky.

Cauliflower clouds carried 

by the wind do not question

where they will go or what

their purpose might be

or when they must dissipate.

 

Droplets fill the stream

stream to the ocean

left wide open.