"If a street is named for a tree, 
it is right that flowers 
bloom purple and feel like cats, 
that people are leaves drifting 
downhill in morning fog. 

Everyone came outside to see 
the moon setting like a perfect 
orange mouth tipped up to heaven. 

Now the cars sleep against curbs. 
If I write a letter, 
how will I make it long enough? 

There is a place to stand 
where you can see so many lights 
you forget you are one of them." 

Naomi Shihab Nye