Then in the Box of Blue Waiting

You found when you left it was for no place

And even if you didn’t the boat and the roadful

Of apples remained stuck, wedged between the boat

Peering down and all the other joyous boats, dim

Then in the box of blue waiting. I stepped on

The rainstorm because I also dropped through the dirty

Moon, even while the little high woman dropped her

Dim box of clothing down and said don’t worry.

I think someone left one of their buttons behind.

There is somewhere to go because just beyond

the window is the just beyond water, somewhere being

still like the apple in the glass. Of the evening

on the sky, well it is like the short one I have

lost, or can’t find, or would place above the ground

from lovely nowhere. I think I remember the clothes

were just above the boat

POEM RANDOMIZER