The star you watched
each night has burned out
and now you notice
the elegies. Two red lights
dissolve into the highway
horizon while a bus flashes
orange on a man standing
against a silver door.
A wagon filled with fire
extinguishers rolls past
a figure tapping ash
from a cigarette. Smoke
spills from a hood, lifts
and disappears into clouds
of snow. Your mother
pulls off her wool hat
and her hair is white.
The sun rises and sets.
You look to the night sky
and see one more piece
of gauzy blue dreaming
of the time it glowed.

Josiah Nelson