Moon Over Columbus

On this laundry mat of field
I am a gray autumn
torpid leaves collapsing in eve
there looming amid quiet
is your peg of moon
an arcane of stars
tilt their lanterns on your behalf

I saw you crammed night
into the belly of your suitcase
you hoarded its girth
as though it were yours
as if it belonged to you
when all I could gather
were your bones of dusk

You wore lavender sky
as I watched you coast to sunrise
taking all what you've reaped
leaving just the blues
and the agony it unfurls.