This nighttime sky we all share
across continents and time zones
tonight has broken clouds
and crickets competing with cicadas,
howling dogs and speeding cars
on a 25 Mph backroad.
Yearlong detour brings out
the worst in people, night or day,
hurrying to get somewhere
hurrying to get back from somewhere,
as trim mothers chat briskly over pink
strollers or tired fathers try to guide
small sons on bikes with training wheels.
Me, I'm taking it all in, my old camera
broken; my new one still unfamiliar.
This place where land and sky collide
is not flat, but ragged, jagged and complex,
rigged with wires and light ever-changing.
Turn around and bats are skimming,
birds are doing bird things,
and below, as darkness descends like infinity
some of us are looking up, hoping for
a dying star, a satellite, a sign that
we are part of something larger
than a broken camera could ever wish for,
in these fleeting seconds of uncertainty.
thanks to etouffee, for the empty nodeshell