When I face what has left my life,
         I bow.  I walk outside into the cold,
                rain nesting in my hair.
        All the houses near me
have their lights on.  Somewhere,
                  there is a deep listening.
         I stand in the dark for a long time
        under the walnut tree, unable
                   to tell anyone, not even the night,
         what I know.  I feel the darkness
                   rush towards me, and I open my arms.

–– Lynn Martin