Poem Beginning With a Line from Basho

The moon is brighter since the barn burned.
And by burned I mean to the bones—
the rafters on the ground a whale’s ribcage.
A barn is mostly kindling. No wonder
it went up like that—whoosh. Or should I
question my perception? As the therapist
tells me, look for evidence to support
the feeling. One minute, beams. The next,
smoke. Didn’t my husband say, hardly
to me at all, it was a long time coming?
In this still-smoldering field, I am looking
for evidence. How can something stand
for years, and then—? Just like that?
Where the roof was, all this night.