That Star Inside of Me is Crashing Again
When the moon thinks she can be
as bright as the sun’s luminescence--
Where cats play with small objects
Imagining real rodents--
Who dances in the dark field
For an invisible audience--
How wind pushes blades and dust
To void, or persuade the senses--
What crashing stars distract us,
Stave off the healing process--
Fleeting, yet enough to stave the soul
With cause to leave us hopeless--
