Subsumed

The sun is a cold ghost 

painted against the window

Your photograph is the moon

rising above the empty fireplace 

the clouds are your words

black and heavy with dread,

Across the narrow street

 the old give-way sign

where we scratched our names

now freckled with rust,

like your skin in new light.

The stars will arch upwards

a new path across the hills

illuminating all ,and this

especially this .

How I became subsumed

On a road that I assumed.