Tonight's Poet Corner: One, Two, Three
One, Two, Three
by Belinda Roddie
With the power out in patches
across the bay, we could see
Orion's belt slung low
across his hips, the dipper
scooping cosmic soup that
tasted saltier than the ocean below.
And there was Cassiopeia's chair,
upside down as always, with her
hidden silhouette hanging on for dear
life. We tried counting, couldn't
manage it, leaned into each other -
my jacket caught both my warmth
and yours. Your smell was frilled
with filet mignon and apple crisp.
by Belinda Roddie
With the power out in patches
across the bay, we could see
Orion's belt slung low
across his hips, the dipper
scooping cosmic soup that
tasted saltier than the ocean below.
And there was Cassiopeia's chair,
upside down as always, with her
hidden silhouette hanging on for dear
life. We tried counting, couldn't
manage it, leaned into each other -
my jacket caught both my warmth
and yours. Your smell was frilled
with filet mignon and apple crisp.
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