After All Have Gone

I once carried my mollusk tune

All the way to the lottery of gods.

Rain was the old funeral choir

That keened of a hemisphere

Moored under lampwings.

Clouds never left. I knew

The lights would shine clearer

If I closed my eyes, just as

I knew the Pacific would teach

Me to sleep before tying my

Name to the flaming. Here I

Am now at the end of amethyst,

Drizzling another lost sunrise

Inside the quilt of your hand.