Under Stars at Night (Meteor Shower Part Two)
Running under the stars at night,
I am accompanied by the rhythm of my footfalls
and the wordless, patient whisper of my breath
Sprinklers hiss moistly, invisibly,
preparing the ground for the onset of desert morning
A teenage couple lingers in the cone of a street light,
embracing at the curb, the car door standing open
Their date is over but their evening is not --
not just yet
A face gritty with razor stubble flares into existence,
glowing dull red from a cigarette lighter,
then disappears a second later into the blank darkness,
leaving only a bobbing red dot
which soon also fades from sight
The Orionid meteor shower has returned:
fifteen times the earth has swung imperturbably around
to trouble this patch of sky,
fifteen years since I last wrote of it
And what? I am still wakeful,
and another kiss lingers between my lips
I am much stronger now,
somewhat wiser,
and a little grey --
once again starting over,
and still taken by surprise
by the reliable inconstancy of the heavens
Now I turn to run directly into it,
finally doubting no more,
permitting the radiance
to pierce me straight through
-- Fall 2006, 12:26 a.m.
Relay
Accepting the baton from my teammate,
running forward
on foot under the stars,
under a million distant suns,
my headlamp penciling dustily off into the black void --
my efforts,
my ancestors' hopes,
my descendants' pride,
all concentrate together here
in this present, this one
shining, pulsing
moment
-- February 29, 2008