Like Christmas in Australia, or the idea of spring
In some future Texas, desertified and changeless,
May metaphor survive the world it comes from,
As a boy leaves home, a baby her bottle,

Losing the thing without abandonment
In feeling. May stars stay eternal
After falling, for example, and lovers
Recollect themselves, in their unhappiness,

By gazing at a memory of stars,
After stars per se have been obscured.
The pique of losing summer, the stir in the heart
When winter’s fist has grown too weak to hold us—

May they still symbolize, when heat
Has no more seasons, and lead us into feeling
It’s now the turn of stars to go missing
For a while, and then come back.