by Jim Daniels

night breeze—
pure near-silence
of haunted single-
digit hours

the curb gentle
in its slope
like a pet curled
into admiration

don’t ask me
why I’m here—
streets shifted
on my walk

to lead me
letters on street signs
melted into darkness
until all became

anonymous
the lush emptiness
of air unencumbered
by light, the cool

generous consolation
for losing her
against my face
now, long past

tears—remote
as stars behind clouds
and yet and yet
here I am

awake in the glory
of her absence.