The Close Distance

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In hot summer

With night sky exposed

We sit with backs to the planet

Searching for satellites.

Those stars that move

Ploughing the heavens

In strict straight lines……..and then

Once found, followed, observed, concluded in

A celebration of our simple control

Of a sky so close

That it shapes our visions

Even when the atmosphere

Stirs up dirt or is measured

Carefully for precipitation.

We hold hands for the first time

And it feels like they fit together

Our eyes darting from sky to eyes

Different colors, different light,

To each star, a name, a distance

In this moment of movement

The ground is warmer

Cotton blend flat upon turf

Don’t kiss me yet

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25 thoughts on “The Close Distance

  1. I like this poem. It reminds me of the time I dated a guy in high school for less than a week, but we took a night walk, held hands, and watched the stars. As we lay there looking up, heturned to me in what could have been a sweet teenage romance of a moment and kissed the side of my boob (bra and shirt on). Then he said,”I had to do that”. Strange encounter. I should have said, “don’t kiss me yet”.

    Like

  2. I love reading this–it’s like a veil of summer. I would love to paint it some time. That may sound unusual; but I can see this poem represented by a certain palette! And it’s lovely.

    Liked by 1 person

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