Prodigal Sun

Didn't the end of the day

say something,

the beginning of the night

worn with its first stars?

Didn't the tops of the trees

say anything,

the roofs warn or say wait,

the buildings?

What did you think would be there |

but darkness, night, cold.

Night long we thought of you.

We asked the moon

to stay up after us watching

for you.

Vou were in our dreams,

falling free and abundant,

sun for the land without asking,

sun even for the stones,

who didn't care one way

or the other.

Sun profligate, burning both ends

of the circle you describe.

We were afraid for you,

for ourselves, for the rest

of the days.

Who knew the next day would

even still come and you back,

there at the door,

at the roofs, at the sky,

forgiven.