Arrivals and Departures

I brave the rain on the roof
scanning the sky
for an approaching light
blinking in the drizzle

you'll be on one of them, tonight

and soon the green of the messenger
will tell, you landed

but I see a shooting star, instead,
unblinking and bright
and forget to ask if you reached,
and would never get to know
are you richer for my not asking
am I richer for the star?

and if i go again, tomorrow,
whom will it be for?