in the stick count for the song

with knowing you’re gone

glancing up at where you lived

when you lived here



i see you suddenly alive

and nearly smiling

i stop and hold my breath

and watch the way you used to be



the full moon makes

our faces shine

like over-ironed polyester



then disappears behind the clouds

and leaves me under empty rows

of night windows



we could walk to where these streets

get pulled together

blinking, lined with gravel

shoulder squared towards an end



where the radio resounds

from doppling traffic

where the power lines

steal esses from the hourly news



de-pluralize our casualties

drown the generals out in static

we turn and watch our city sprawl

and send us signals in the glow

of night windows

night windows



and i won’t ever get to say)



remember how

i’m sorry that

i miss the way

could we



night windows