Elegy

I carry a ball and glove. I study the stars. I arrive and depart. 
"Love many, lose some till none remain," the sailor sang. Ho hum. 
Near dusk the shadows of humans resemble stones. Inside 
the house we are suddenly weightless, having not seen 
each other for years, then touch like lights rehearsing the latitudes 
of our names. Once in the bracken I did find myself looking for 
a blown hat, now I'm polishing the lens of a telescope to make 
the distant more bright. We had a girl pink as a shrimp. Her 
birth wail filled our gaze that grew and grew till seeing burst 
a second's glory. We're still proud, but her dolls get older. The colossi 
of two pop stars flash on a giant screen. We gaze up like ancients not 
privy. Time's a game of catch and pitch. On ships I think of 
barns, in sleep I sail the land. I like green best when it courses 
like fire.—A glove, a ball, a house collapsed. A carcass of vowels wept.