I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment.
—Rilke



Perhaps the rain
drumming
at the window


could be more gentle;


Perhaps the mist
rising off the lake


could be more clear...


Or the trees
rustling
like your footsteps


Make me think
somehow
you are here.



I hate these rainy nights
without you


the flare of lights in windows
gives false hope


I picture you
standing in the doorway


But your raincoat hangs
beside the door.