The rain started falling round half past four So I slipped inside a used bookstore to stay dry On the shelf beside Kipling and Keats I found An old chapbook of yours, it was leatherbound I asked the guy, "how long has this been here?" "Forever," he said. "It keeps coming back to us unread It's a sin" So I paid him the $2.99 that it cost And sat down on a cushion near Robert Frost and dug in There's a high noon and a low road A slow smile and a deep wish Drop a secret, or a stone, or a thought in the night And I might know this There's a slow burn and a thick wall A new boat and a rising tide Don't forget that when I knew you and thought you had gone I was on your side As the day grew long I read poem after poem Your words worked through me and brought me home I remembered when you finally, fatefully wrote one for me After four years together in 2013, in December I was wrapping a gift for your youngest niece A diary with a lock, when I felt a piece of the wheel Then you came in the room like a bird on the wing And the way you were looking said everything I couldn't feel There's a sweet wind and a high cool A hot dark and a soft night Sink an arrow, and a heart, and a boat in one shot But you're not alright There's a bright room and a tight walk A quick snow and a slow light Sink your head into my pillow and stay in one spot Cause you're hot all night What are you so afraid of? What mettle are you made of? What simple candid shade of me are you afraid of? What am I so afraid of? What mettle am I made of? What is it that I prayed I'd never be afraid of?