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Suburbia |
I miss the huge black sky that blankets the City,
the jumbo LCD screens in Times Square, neon
"Open" signs flashing out front of every bar,
and millions of luminous apartment windows
creating a dark incapable of supporting any celestial
object other than the Moon. When I was a child,
my dreams reached all the way to the Moon, so big
in the sky I swear I could touch her, easily travel
the path from my fingers to her cheek. Out here,
there are so many stars you couldn't drown them out
even if every family in the county turned their house lights
on all at once, so far away you can count the light-years
like rings on a tree stump. Shooting for the stars
is a good way to get lost. I never know which one
to sail my ship by. Each night I shut my curtains,
and wake to empty blue skies that never depict
any journey but that of the Sun.
copyright 2016
Carla
Criscuolo |
