A crust of moon slices
the dawn, clouds furrowing
first lavender then peach
before robin’s egg blue perches
the horizon. My future
hangs in the balance, strangers
nibbling my profile, uninterested
in living, only in scrolling
through yesterday’s choices.
Sun brightens, gulps
what’s left of night,
and I abandon the bed, mourning
sleep. My cousin lingers
partly in the Gulf Stream, partly
in Ohio’s soil, but always in the stars.
We are starlight, stardust
sharing the sequined constellations,
the meteor’s flash, the solstice
where we can stand still. At the edge
of everything, the self
we’ve tried all along to avoid:
Here is where we’ll meet.
2024-01-01