This is me at the window looking in/out

Was the end supposed to be

a pantsless, snack-heavy groaning board

full of clear skies?

Because I’m standing at my window,

singing a sorrowful song to the rising moon

and yet I feel relieved.

There’s not much to be afraid of

when you see the sun’s dust,

the night’s stars,

and your own hands

for what they are: empty.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s