Dark Matter

Dark Matter

The last leaves hang,
the stark monuments of fall left standing
after the last of summer tumbled around them.

The spouse, raking a solitary life
in the gutter, drops arms and pauses,
paper scraps in one hand, his match in the other.

This was the last heat:
nails down his back
as through faded embers.

After years of rotating seasons,
the soil is leached,
and they are no better.

There is the new moon between them
and no shadow to trace a path.
Though looking into the night sky

is looking back in time,
they cannot control
the dark matter

that grew between them
as they evolved around each other
through the gravities of life's cost:

love lost lives lost chances lost.
The line that separates sky and earth—
they each wait for the other to cross it.