Winter And The Night Sky Aflame
In last clear winter night
I saw red light like a phoenix
a light careening downward
against the canvas of aphotic sky.
Present were the planets
which aligned among constellations,
passenger planes embarking with clarity
out on their own ways.
Had they seen it too?
or was it a figment of an exhausting mind
combined with my unreliable eyes,
projecting a spectacle
to shake me from malaise,
return my sight to players
peeking behind the curtain,
the world’s stage I put to writing
exuberant in image and voice.
The comet of some past poet perhaps
showing off their place in eternity
as if the words were not already enough.
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