Tiny fires hung from
The cold ceiling of night
Blueberry light trickled through
Black pine clothed in crystal
The mighty light of the copper bulb 
Flooded through oak and thorn
Like a slow river
Yellow meadows peppered in shadows 
Of wicked branches and fluttering birds
Willows foamed like refinery clouds
Or the banks of the black rivers
Plane lights blink through the distance
And I remember how it felt

When you were still here