The Intimate Heavens

We want you to notice us,

but we'd rather you not know.

The desert skies are falling

for a few, soft hours as snow.

It's local; it's not the stars.

It's small grace in a small world,

but when the skies clear tonight,

and the last of these clouds go,

moon, stars, jets, and satellites

will seem intimate as snow.

Probably, you won't notice.

Maybe you don't need to know.