Friday Night Lights Project: Week #43

It was a very peaceful night here in Hawkwood Street, the light, finding me in a blissful state. And elsewhere, Cindy sharpened pencils and Ashley measured the distance between pine and sky…

And now, I bring the light to you. Open yourself to it.

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The distance between pines is sky
and sky is a convenient link
between us. It takes one airplane

to get from here to there (and back)
using the jet stream like train tracks
and sky might have other meanings:

my kettle drum heartbeat, waiting
at the gate marked ‘for arrivals’
or: discontinuous island
 
country similar to memory
except where aging satellites
fall. That sounds fanciful. I am

a practical birdwatcher.
I tally only the small marks
by your name, when you are in sight.

AM

**********

CK

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Somewhere, a bird, head thrown
back in the pink flush of
dawn, releases its careful
notes into the world.

And though I lay drowsing
unable to tell which species it is
it arrives at the window
like a gift of spring.

Once, I would have rushed
outside to name it —
insisted on knowing
the purpose of its call.

Now, with you curled
at my side, I thank
the bird and lie still
listening, not for answers —

there is something
sweeter than knowing —
a fullness, unimagined
in the morning sky.

GN