After All Have Gone

I once carried my mollusk tune All the way to the lottery of gods. Rain was the old funeral choir That keened of a hemisphere Moored under lampwings. Clouds never left. I knew The lights would shine clearer If I closed my eyes, just as I knew the Pacific would teach Me to sleep before tying my Name to the flaming. Here I Am now at the end of amethyst, Drizzling another lost sunrise Inside the quilt of your hand.