Bob Dylan’s Version

The resistance of air allows
the necessary notes,
and All Along the Watchtower

finds its way
through the earthly din
of crickets and the half

quiet moon hanging
on the cloud ribbons
of Cassiopeia.  It is

one month
since you died and I
am astonished

at the darkness,
at the perfect night stillness
on my skin, at the way

all of this
keeps moving forward
like wisps of cloud,

perfect and changing
across a revelation
of stars.