the silver shining

the silver shining streak
cutting diagonally across the sky over me
while i lay, pre-sunset and post-dinner
on the flat concrete of the cistern’s surface
birdie the cat curled on my chest

from the water world:

Children jump into Istanbul’s Bosphorus Strait, Turkey. – voice of America, day in photos.


i’m not afraid of dying, i’m afraid of dying alone

when i say american
i mean the united states

i mean
of rugged individualism

written into the constitution

when i say loneliness
i mean
we walk the perimeter of that cavity
like one might walk the perimeter of a crater
rough-edged earth under unsure shoes

we console those who have fallen in
best we can
while praying
without sound
please god don’t ever let that be me

because that has been us

thanksgiving and christmas
are the busiest nights in emergency rooms
mostly older folks call in
not because
they have cut off a finger while slicing turkey
or broke brittle hipbones from a slip on stray tinsel
but because
they only want
to gather around the warmth
of other humans