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Sky Blink

M. Travis Lane
From: Kaleidoscope, vol. 4, 2003. The All-Nighter's Radio (Guernica, 2010)


Noon, we had been drunk with it,
burned, until our spirits slept
in the red droning of our limbs.

But now, in this humid twilight,
small fears like midges start to fret,
and, soon enough, we will be cold.

Too cold to lie here naming stars,
those sottish , brutal ecstasies—
or the sky blink of a meteor
erasing itself.

We, too, will fade
into that vast indifference, which,
like the dew
now forming on the columbine
needs nothing from us,
not even love.

But we need love.
I have your hand—
though we must, now that night has come,
sleep—oh my dear—
must sleep.


M. Travis Lane's works copyright © to the author.


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