“There’s no gravity on the moon
Because there’s no air.
It’s air that keeps us stuck to the earth.”
— seriously, my university roommate, a science major . . .
Night on the river
Away from the lights —
Sit in a gently rocking boat
Drift with the current
Hear singers at a bonfire
Just a faraway spark of sound —
Ripples play with the sides of the boat
Out there, over by the weedbeds,
A large pike lofts after the moon
But splats back heavily into the glassy water.
Up I look at the stars
Inexplicable bright sparks
Shining enigmatically
Eyes looking back
Searching for me
On the dark river
In my little boat.
If I could hold my breath
I could drift up
Go there;
It’s breath holds me here
The act of breathing
Acknowledging the air
That binds me here.
I could walk on the moon
Spread stars like moondust
Look back at you
See you
Find you
Breathless
