Thursday, May 27, 2010

St. Augustine of Canterbury

He told me to go to sleep

and die amongst the stars

but I don’t think I can hold up

my end of that deal. I can’t

keep my eyes closed. All these

comets keep whistling through

and keep me awake. With binoculars,

I think I can see an astronaut floating

in an inner tube of night. The lone satellite

blinks on and off and continues on its

wide circle. circling. The planes weave

around in the sky as if they were making

a blanket of the darkest yarn. I am drawn

to the edge of the sea to see the dark clearer.

The boats bob in and out, the sun lights up

the moon with her ruddy cheeks.

I start to drift away.

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