All the way to Mercer these
rooms left out
in the dark—lamplight and two chairs
the old couple sit
reading in,a table where a family
comes together
for dinner—
the rest of the houses, one
with the night. How
blessed they are,
the man hanging his ordinary
coat in the small world
of a kitchen,
the woman turning to her cupboard,
both of them held
from the cold
and the vastness by nothing
but trusting
inattention
and one beam of light,
like us passing by
in the darkness,
you napping, me wide awake
and grateful for this
moment
we’ve also been given, apart
in our way of being
together, living