In the beginning there was only the moonlight
and the rain

and the mud that was left once the rain had stopped
and the footprints left in the mud

made by my boots from when
outside in the rain I had stood

beside the gate through the whole storm
watching out into the nothing that was on the other side of the fence

and once the rain had passed and I had trudged indoors
dredging the mud across my floors and it was

only the moonlight and an inch of rainwater
collecting in my footprints in the yard and also

upon the thin bodies of the night blooming flowers
from out in the distance

the animals began
talking with the world

and I lay in my bed by the open window listening
to that world being born out there

and I watched the swans drop
from the dark air

to fold the lights of the night sky
into the down of their once soaring backs

and that’s when you came home to find me upstairs
asleep

having tried so hard to stay awake but failing
and you woke me with what I know not

the harshest softness
or the most careful of violence

and your face was the first thing that I saw
in the familiar light of this new place