Perseid Showerby Gary Short
Meteors break
through the late-summer night,white blossoms scattering, furiously.
They don’t make a noise,at least none
that we can hear.They disappear in all directions
signifying desireand its difficulty.
There. The half-moon floatsthin and translucent
as an insect’s wing. We say the moon ishalf-full,
even as it wanes.So much longing. . .
to witness the unfoldingacross distance. How we must look
to anyone watching.Here is the star cage.
Here the still life with black clock.