take nighttime dog walks only in a waxing moon or if you see party lights
you can both track the stages with optimism
avoid the panic of shadows dissolving in oil
projecting feelings that hope disappears
how likely is it to look up and see one ring glowing open in the cloud pavé
and arch your back and spin your face to find that
you stand at the center and yes the dark has singled you out
while in fact you're stealing time from the night that you'll have to pay back
what were the words we left below that 3/4 satellite
why do those i do collect arrive at home
disjointed and unintelligible, snow back from a mountain,
a muttering pool behind a firewall of mist
By Jan Jansdaad
Highchank Jr. High
Homecoming Week Hangar Fair
Poetry Stall, Bench 12
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