New moon

5.9.13

Homeward, past
the gas station, sleepy and blue in the fog.
Sugar trees heavy in the sweet wet world.

My sister drives me around town in the rain.
We don't have much to say
so we murmur in strange voices,
turn the heat on and off.

Stars
we can see around the hole of the moon
when the rain stops.
Not a hole you fill
or cover over.

We're on the gleaming black streets,
the rich smell of soaked flowers
and grass.

I can't tell her who is alone
and who isn't.