Mischief

A poem I wrote when the person I loved stopped communication on the first day of the Mercury Retrograde.

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1. Mischief

The stars are out

Twilighting so bright

On the line dividing

Darkness from dusk

The quick red dwarf.  

 

Unlike the lights

Of Eros, Of Aphrodite

The ones they gave prayer to

lurch forward,

unlike mercury.  

 

But the dwarf, it stumbles

It reverses

In circumlocution

The dwarf is in mischief

for now.  

 

Causing all to become silent

On my darkly dusk

With only the stars to grieve me.     

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