Here on the hill
we crane our necks
with our proximity to the stars
to the extent we do not notice

our shadows
thrown by dead light
are paralyzed
robbed of their nature to
‘shift!—’ the valley people say
‘before the waters in your spine

in a language we were birthed with ears for
‘shift!—’ I hear them call
from down where the only light
comes from the spark of exchanged words
hitting together
from the glow of skin
touching skin
from laughter
bursting in the grasses:
never current
only present

oh, how I long to lower my head
and tumble down to the warmth of the living
but my neck has been like this
too long
and I forget how to command


2 thoughts on “Shift

  1. What an awesome poem, I love it! The idea of getting so caught up in the stars that we forget the joy of living on earth, I especially like the last stanza with, “tumble down to the warmth of living” beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

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