the
night sky knows, Magellan is on the radio looking for a port berth
who
are you
the
night sky asks me
as
I stand looking
listening
for ways
a
soul moans silences
at
Winter’s midpoint
the
crows, muzzle tuck
shelter
against the cold
they
know humans are crazy
insane
enough to disregard life
but
they litter so many good things
that
love to shine, their caws say
they
camp near the edges
of
your cities and peruse
your
wired communities
the
night sky says
it
saw me carrying old cloth
those
found river stones
I
was laying out prayers
into
diamond shapes
stretching
exhales
into
clay wings
for
midnight
does
Dawn know to find me, I ask
somewhere
between a bare branch
of
that old maple and the sharp crease
at
the top of the slate roof across the street
a
scattered light snow
gives
away direction
under
street lamps
illuminates
each look
into
a yellow sodium sorrow
and
an empty
silhouette
of language
that
knows what
déjà
vu is made from
there
are no books
or
bound spells
the
night sky doesn’t know
it
can cut and
curl
every star
and
Moon’s rise
into
what we see
into destiny
into giving ourselves away
into
choosing a path
polar
neon signs tell us that marquees please us
that
magicians, scroll maps and magnets work light
that
faith has nothing to do with divinity
that
algorithms are the milk here
we
ask you who you are, because
we
want to know if you are going
to
pause or not for when you do
we
know that you are not through
looking
past the glass at what life
can
offer outside of being broken by questions
every
answer since Marconi and Tesla died
comes
in the form of top forty singles
little
jingles that wrangle memory
from
nooses to nurseries
in
the loose grasp of straws and sand
yes,
we count sheep too
demand
life’s liberties
all
its pursuits and happiness
that
our parlor tricks can use
you
ask us when you crane your head
why
we are the keepers of the night sky
why
do we lean the peer edge of a crow’s eye
how
can we keep playing chance against choice
we
say humans whisper
for
salvation through inquisitions
we
know they position windows
where
the stars pass from shadows
to
the mathematics that count
we
know to keep them questioning why
we
know to keep them curious
and
on board atop
the
tallest mast
way
up high
looking
out
for
what’s ahead
and
what was behind
EJR
©
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