I often wish I could take snap shots of the sky
Turn them sideways
Translate them into what I imagine as the hidden music of the world
Return them as loosely coupled sonnets
That repeat
Synced to the rising tides
To the slow decay
Wind them up
[ Old watches and children’s toys ]
Send them fluttering upwards
To streak across the sky
Beautiful alarms
Warning end of day
And in shining streaks of firefly gold
carry on the best parts of the evening
With you.