Show Me Which Constellations You Know

Forget what went wrong. The tiffs, the tantrums, the tears.

Remember every­thing we had. The com­fort of cradling under sheets in the sum­mer, the quin­tes­sen­tial excite­ment of the unknown, the rush of being saved from a pro­sa­ic life.

Show me which con­stel­la­tions you know.

And we’ll walk along the beach for­ev­er.


  1. This morn­ing you are a bless­ing on four legs,
    Nose greet­ing the snow before you
    Tail brush­ing the snow behind you
    your form elec­tric in the falling snow.

    What to make of this,
    the world gone ecsta­t­ic white?
    what to make of this,
    cat with all legs four for hap­pi­ness?
    Black face with snowy con­stel­la­tions of delight?

    after a while, you plead­ed to come inside
    with liq­uid brown eyes of antic­i­pa­tion.

    in the win­ter of war­ring dread
    we are all this cat want­i­ng
    to come in from the cold.

  2. love this post. short, sweet, poignant… (sigh)

  3. Thank you.

    A well writ­ten piece.

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