Anna

Anna, I find you,
Too often, too close,
Spilling into my solidarity
On my evenings alone
When nothing is wanted
And the house is still
When thoughts are sweet indulgences
And silence gives me pause
And regrets feel romantic
Anna, you rush at me
As sharp as northern wind
In a hurry of slicing memories
Too cutting to soften with self-deception
Anna, you broke
the reliable pattern of people
How disquieting: the not-knowing
How to resolve you
I know the trees, the land
Myself, and this night
Only you, my Anna, my never-companion,
When I study the lines of sky
The shreds of sunset
You rattle the calm of my closing.