"At an indefinite height overhead something made the sky blacker, which had the semblance of a vast architrave uniting the pillars horizontally." ~Thomas Hardy, Tess of the d'Ubervilles
- from where i sit
in this sleepy little town,
sitting in the rocker
your mother found for me
at a neighborhood yard sale - now weatherworn
its seat almost gone
from where i sit
the night sky is
black as onyx
darker than any sky
i've ever known
in spite of streetlamps
and a fogged-over half-moon
we have sat on this porch
mesmorized by stars
and theorized together
for more than decade
is it the salt ocean
perfect altitude
daily-washed air
from where i sit
if i fix my eyes just so
i can see not only
dippers and twins
but distant galaxies
in clouds of light
infinite, infinite
sitting here rocking
thinking about a poem
about how much blacker
the night sky is in astoria
a shooting star roars
in front of me
big as a comet
- and i think
what kismet
in spite of the enormity
of the universe
and my seedling desire
to write a poem - in memoriam
2 commentaires:
"what kismet", indeed! must be great to live where the night sky looks so lovely, and dazzles you with a shooting star.
thanks, blue. one of those moments that makes life bearable, almost livable! another poem that got me through a hard time. xoxoxoxox
Enregistrer un commentaire