The Most Intimate
How that blue turns gray over green
at a slight tilt of the chin,
and even upside down
anchors the tree.
Some constellations escape language,
stars looming without nouns and adverbs,
the utterances of the planets
caught in the gravity
of their own situations.
Laugh, but the trashcan is full. The lawn is brown.
There are no gods.
Unadorned statements abound.
Even this sky may shift again,
the most intimate twist
turned full.
* * *
“The Most Intimate” first appeared at Poetry Breakfast in May 2019. Thank you, Ann Kestner, for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
Aren’t we all caught in the gravity of our own situations? And to a large extent, isn’t the degree of gravity of our own making?
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I believe we are. But it takes some of us a while to realize it, much less do something about it.
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Wonderful.
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Thanks, Leslie!
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Amazing! 🌟
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I love these lines for the sense of awe they provoke.
“Some constellations escape language,
stars looming without nouns and adverbs,
the utterances of the planets
caught in the gravity
of their own situations.”
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Thanks, Ali. The universe is awesome, in every sense of the word.
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