PURPLE FOG

In this purple fog amid a rainstorm,

in this moment,

I see past your shoulder

a coming tidal wave of people.

Oh boat, your boat

adrift on millions of small eddies

in an ocean of electrons, sailing

far from known shores.

Sweetheart, how fine this faint and tranquil colored sky,

let down so soft upon your shoulders.

We breathe the world’s toxic mist,

disdaining the search for dawns.

On my chest I pin the star 

that falls with yours.

The tide of people suddenly arrives, 

suddenly recedes, gone like ghosts

to their pure and innocent world.

Yet in the storm, with our small laughter, we’re remote

from cosmic dust, earth dust. Dense fog shrouds anything

unwilling to speak its brightness.