I look upstream
To soak up the light
Beams dying with the sun,
A final warm caress lingers.
I watch shadows
Lengthen into the distance,
Float down the river -
Gone out of my fading sight.
This bridge is my roof
Against the rain of stars,
Against the flashing neon
Red/Orange of digital moons.
Night chills me into stillness;
I hibernate until sunrise.
For daylight beckons my teeth
To feast on daydreams and fear.
At 6 o’clock the eye
gazes at a faint half-moon,
the mind reaches
for it
with early Monday evening words,
like the swallows
darting and swooping
in sunlit joy
and wonder,
why is the moon an imperfect mirror?
