You will never be alone, you hear so deep
A sound when autumn comes. Yellow
Pulls across the hills and thrums,
Or the silence after lighting before it says
Its names — and then the clouds’ wide-mouthed
Apologies. You were aimed from birth:
You will never be alone. Rain
Will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
Long aisles — you never heard so deep a sound,
Moss or rock, and years. You turn your head —
That’s what the silence meant: you’re not alone.
The whole wide world pours down.