November hymnal (3)

All the angles of the sun on tomorrow’s hours
will be awkward like when you arrive late

to a friendship that began before you
understood who your friends were

If you catch up then everything changes
the number of leaves on the autumn trees

the sun rose over that morning
or the hour of the note left on the door

that is still on the door of the heart
though it said nothing less fleeting

than any butterfly of fate
Tonight while you sleep an hour will

come back but from which night?
when you could count the moons

you’d loved together on a single hand
or to a life that has been waiting for you

but now is going on as if you had been there
all along? maybe it never needed you

like the moon never needed you walking
on it but walk on it we did