--LOOKED AT YOUR PICTURE AND CRIED LIKE A BABY

 

Shifting Stars

 

Stars are shifting 

as we sit on the barn roof 

at midnight, a bottle of

half-empty clear dangling 

between our knees 

like another bad decision.

 

Grandpa plowed the east field 

but all we can see is dark on dark.

Uncle Tripp worked the west end 

where it’s darkest and there’s no escape, 

only dry rot, stooped gullies and cattle carcasses.

 

But right here, right now,

the stars are all line dancing 

like giddy drunks at a tavern,

and the moon’s wearing a 

shit-eating grin and we’re safe 

and I’m the big brother I was 

always supposed to be and 

you’re not quite the girl you’re 

going to be yet, but I can tell you this: 

you’re gonna be a freed woman,

clacking her heels on NYC sidewalk

looking past the scrapers and neon,

blowing a kiss to the very same moon 

you and I are staring at right now.