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Adrift at 2 a.m.

by Kristina Woodhill

Were I the waxing gibbous glow,
Star strolling just beyond my uncurtained window,

Rather than a supine insomniac,
Staring wearily at a fuzzy lit ceiling

In gray streaks
Of an unskilled water colorist,

I might bask in my reflective self
And my place in this elegant ecliptic,

Dance sparks and specks
Along winter poplars' waving bare arms;

Play hide 'n seek with teenage couples
Dodging prying porch lights,

Staring with wonderment
At their finger tips still aflame;

Or turn tail and moon
That star-studded hunk, Orion,

But for his quiver and bow


Posted on 02/21/2016
Copyright © 2023 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/21/16 at 07:04 PM

As a life long moon and star gazer, I really enjoyed this, Kris. Love the depths and ways of its imagery/descriptiveness. Kudos!

Posted by Rob Littler on 02/21/16 at 07:43 PM

...brings to mind the greyest of evenings when that borrowed light from a dying sun illuminates more than just the surface, when our shadows mingle with the breeze, and the expanse of our being opens up to the infinite, and eternal. Loved it!

Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 02/21/16 at 08:20 PM

*****STELLAR*****(always enjoy your work)

Posted by Laura Doom on 03/14/16 at 12:10 AM

I'm reading this as it has a title that seduces me--no surprises; but really it's because I enjoy seeing you play. All work and no little pleasure...

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