Seeing You Carry Plants In

How much I love you. The night is moist.

The air is still, as when I love you.

It is not every evening that I love you.

I come back like the stars, sometimes out of clouds.

The night is moist, and nourishing as your mind

that lets everything around you live.

I saw you carry the plants inside tonight

over the grass, to save them from the cold.

Sometimes I slip behind a door, so that

I will not be called on, or walk

hunched on sandbars below earth, not sure

if anyone in my family can love.

Your voice is water open beneath stars,

collected from abundant rain, gone to low places.

The night is moist, the ground wet,

air still, trees silent, and tonight I love you.