By Matthew Kirby

The night takes back her rest, having grown warm,
but I remembered you, bound as I am
by this lovely and unexpected chain.
One thing is necessary, one my aim.
I leaped the terrible leap of having been born
and ever since have sought peace between darknesses.
The world knows many things and man preaches gain,
but one thing is necessary, one my aim.
The night sets up her kingdom; it’s a science
of emigrants, best learned by osmosis,
on the train to the Rockaways in warm rain.
God I remember you, bound as I am.