Incantation

We ran and played until the night;
Our shouts rang out across the beach,
And though exhausted, wanted more,
As headed to our houses, each

Would say aloud, “I wish we’d stayed.”
To parents smiling in the front,
Before we fell asleep ere long,
And dreamed of trick, and tale, and stunt

And words repeated, endlessly:
Our play, a joy, a revelation —
Running, jumping, singing songs,
With breath-filled childhood

An incantation

The moon gave me stories…

The moon gave me stories,
The stars gave me dreams,
The dreams told me, “everything
Is not as it seems.”

I know the message more and more
Those planets tried to send:
That though we’re in the story,
We do not write

The end

The Winter Stars Came Out That Night

The winter stars came out that night
To smile on us, and sing —
We watched our breath in clouds like smoke,
Our faces coloring —

We sang our carols in the snow,
And glided towards the dawn,
December in our hearts, we watched
Until the stars were gone.

We went back with our families,
Each one to different lives;
That village now, a different place.
But this one thing survives —

A memory like yesterday,
And I can guarantee it:
The winter stars came out that night
And we were there

To see it

Stolid

I was a serious first grader.

 

I started old. I thought it’d save me time
And get the worst of aging over fast.
A six year old who drank sodas with lime,
And viewed his young compatriots aghast.

For knowing little how hard life could be
Of vanity and struggle and the void:
These children, with benighted buoyancy
Were happy nonetheless.
And I?
Annoyed.