at least, I think it was today.
She melted into the woods,
the leaves, the pine needles.
Her heart pierced,
and I remembered the stars,
how they burst into flame,
life burning into glorious light,
like a starlet on the red carpet.
After their nascent arrival
into the swampy, silky dark
universe, they immediately
began burning out–like my cat.
I mourn the inevitable dimming, darkening
of days as I grieve the disappearance
of my calico cat, Callie.
And so as I search, tramp, over poison
ivy, scratch vines that cut; I call out,
call out with a longing I scarcely understand.
Maybe one day I will begin to grasp what it means to
be full of light, burning with all the cosmic energy
and open-faced joy that means living. Maybe
I will stand in the pines and oaks, look into the deep
dense–and begin, begin to understand. Maybe.