Horoscope for Introverts

Listen to the foghorn open  
    the water's crinkly envelope:

such a deeply plaintive 
    voice that nothing wants 
to answer. The sky darkens
    but withholds the rain.

There are times when, inside  
    myself, I am lonely again

though I don't want to be.
    Years ago, late at night,

I looked out of my window
    to see you making your way

through powdery snow. 
    Has it been that many years?

In our home, we even have
    two or more of some things—

flashlights, coffee pots, 
    tape measures. Once a day,

the rice cooker whistles softly
    then pings when it's done.
We put tables and shelves 
    together; there are so many
books—it will take more than one
    lifetime to walk through all

the countries in them. But if I go
    alone, I will be lonely inside

myself again. Sometimes the quiet
    is bearable, but never for long.  

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