To Whom

by Anele Rubin

To whom can you say
the wind suddenly stopped, the evening clouds
were tinted pink, the mare
laid her heavy head
on my shoulder?

sky with a bright half moon
seen for a moment
after midnight
from out a farmhouse door
is worth more
than all art?

love for those beyond reach
is an unbearable bloom?

Whom can you tell
when you feel you’re dissolving
when you can’t make yourself move
when mind seems like an ocean rolling
enlarging and washing
toward but not reaching
not breaking?

To whom can you say the door opened
on darkness, a moon half lit,
stars bright with fire too far to feel,
cold grass under bare feet,
dark mountains enveloped in darkness,
invisible trees and night’s creatures breathing?

To whom do you say

eyes tend upward,
so much is buried in the earth?