At first, I tried to shiver off these lights.
They scared me because I thought
the stars had fallen, were burning
in my arms. So much is different now,
but I’ve gotten used to them
and the other objects, the ache
where I drink water. The air
is dry, and there’s never any wind.
The noises are all different, the smells.
After what happened that day,
my neighbors and I tried to
figure it out, what we had done
wrong, what was happening then,
what would become of us next.
The wind was everywhere,
and I wasn’t pointed toward the sky
anymore. I am now, I guess. This is
peaceful, in its way. Still, there’s
a crow I miss, and so much
to tell him; I’ll be ready when
the truck comes, any day now,
to take me back home.