Lull Us To Sleep Poem by gregory collins

The stars look down startled, all that ever ached
will think of how. Branches in the dark are sometimes

sobbing, reminds me of a uranium mine always burning
and protected in these ways. Yet the trees are a lasting memory

like the death of a baby. They shake hands with everyone
since they have cried about what they have laughed through.

They know everyone has gathered around and can hardly swallow.
Because we don't have a name for this baby we lost,

and our memories are careful not to arrange our rearrangements;
Our memories are grateful when we remember them. They light

a candle on the small of my back because i cry alot and call my tears
old friends. I feel my heart is pounding the noise of shattering glass,

and somehow i am finding ways to console my anguish remembered
from years ago: Somehow me wondering why is wonderful.