The Visit

Almost always, it’s just getting dark
when you come back, when you arrive
on this street;
dark
and perhaps just beginning to rain,

as it is, lightly, now.

Lightning
along the perimeter of the black cornfields past N. Professor,
and out back from the nursing home,
where they’re putting people
to sleep.

Almost always, it’s just getting dark
when I realize you are gone;
when you come here
and lie down beside me, without any clothes on
and without a body.