I needed a home
so I came to the city
near the Gulf, to the clean little
apartment with the pullout bed—
for the first days it rained hard
and I felt uneasy, my brain
triggered the neurological pathways
most familiar: endings,
grief, and sorrow. At night
I strolled the beach, impressed
that I could see stars
glistening above sky scrapers;
the sky persistent in giving
light even after its sources
are long dead.
At what had I failed?
At what had I not?
When the light refracts
through the pollutants, the sun
sets beautifully over the beach.
If the city sinks, the city sinks.
by Dan Kraines