The Universe Consoles Itself

The Universe Consoles Itself

The rain speaks to the bricks
And the ivy also speaks
to the bricks but with
the urgency of collar-clinging
love

Snow and ice speak to the street
Potholes speak to the cars

The black cat speaks to the metal fence
in sneaking beneath its hem

The darkness speaks to the trees
and the houses hear

I speak to the moon by looking at it
while I scrub the colander in the sink

Whoever else looks at the moon
from now on
and from all of time before
we are speaking to each other