digital art: ralph murre
When Stars
Collide
by Marilyn Fleming
I knew it was you
at the lakefront on the 4th
boats lined up at shore
you looked at me the way
blindness walks through a crowd
one piece of a cloth
we were younger then
fireworks everyday
before the graying
only black and white
idealistic fast track
possibilities
I sit on the curb
count the dull repetitions
echoing starbursts
circuitous sulfur vapors
crimson shattered glass
elbows on knees chin in hand
I watch the platform empty
old pain knocks gently
enters hangs about
intends to stay says nothing
won’t
go away
~
first appeared in Wisconsin Poets’
Calendar
