Cumulus closing
The ragged pupil of our sky.
The stars now curtained,
Their glittering throng interrupted.
Then, the wind levers open,
A small, perfect aperture.
We peer up, squinting
Into the glimmering past.
It’s light issued from
As far back
As we will ever know.
Moo Orders Milk
Saturday, June 24, 2006
The History of Night
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