Under the Walnut Tree

When I face what has left my life,

		I bow.  I walk outside into the cold,

				rain nesting in my hair.

		All the houses near me

have their lights on.  Somewhere,

				there is a deep listening.

		I stand in the dark for a long time

		under the walnut tree, unable

				to tell anyone, not even the night,

		what I know.  I feel the darkness

				rush towards me, and I open my arms.