But I slip over the jamb with all the people just the same.
Under the night’s full cup of moon.
I look past the hour, past the windows where within I just had communion with the light.
As one of the crowd again
I’m singing a simple song
small children mistake for church.
My eyes see it first.
two planets burn in a kiss
postponed for two thousand years.
I can’t help but measure the sadness, the brevity
as I point to the Western sky.
Does anyone know how fleeting this is? I think nobody ever does.