Kris Bigalk moves from the earthbound to the cosmic in this devastatingly beautiful lyric poem.
—
Stones and Stars
Where the rain meets water, this stone beach,
its pebbles, granite arguments that scrape the bare
soles of our feet. You threw the first stone, I the last.
The lake rolled the stones until the sharp edges
turned soft, until their colors shone through – opaque grays,
whites, blues, the occasional agate. I collected them,
my dull pearls, strung them on fish-line, wore them like teardrops.
By sunset, you were a speck on the opposite shore, casting
your line. By nightfall, the sky cleared, and you vanished.
The moon hung sideways, a crescent in the sky,
yellow-gold, so close I could see the outline of its dark side,
the one that never turns my way.
I will soar all night, galaxies spread over my head
like a trailing silver scarf. I will breathe in the sweetness
of the rain-soaked alfalfa, tuck a small stone between
cheek and gum, and taste its unyielding.
***
Kris Bigalk has published with us before. Read “Two Seconds” and “Doors,” which has been nominated for a 2015 Best of the Net Award.
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Photo by Al Case /Flickr