A Dark and Gentle Rain

Morning night, night morning,
The peculiar small hours
Of a pitch dark new day,

Scent of wet Russian sage
In the desert courtyard
In the rare desert rain—

You could say the world’s
Lost and gone off to hell,
And it has, always was—

You could say the world’s
Gone away, that it fades—
It does. You’re alone

One hour in the courtyard
In the dark, as it rains—
Which just means a new day.