Poems from kittyhawk
Silver stars were painted on the windows
by the time we started dancing,
dripping their way down the glass
and pooling in the window...
We came into this world with stars in our eyes
and fireworks in our hands.
The sky was always ours, the galaxies off in the distance
closer...
surely
the coffin
is much too small
for the tiny body
that rests inside it
because
there is no possible way
that a child
could take up
so...