After A Death

Two white sheets,
dripping slowly to the street,
turn blue

from looking too long.
This March day gives
weak, pale light
,

shade, and light again;
warmth peeling
away from the skin.

Broken clouds
form
along the horizon,

spreading out their wings.
Stay here
on the surface of things,

the last egg-yellow light
shining through
hanging gardens of rain.