…a dying star can light the sky for centuries after her fall.
from Vanessa and her Sister by Priya Parman, 2014
a different kind of beauty
she was not broken
The fog lifted–
like a web across my sleeping eyes
it crawled away in slow motion
leaving a snail’s trail of wispy melancholia.
The sun sets on the tracks turning them into straight
lines of salmon steel reflecting the day’s end.
We pause at that inverted “v” where perspective
tricks us into thinking we’ve come such a very long way.