The night smells of dirt and scratches on my lungs.
In pin-pricked blackness I search the heavens.
Out of the northeast a meteor streaks;
tangential, it’s snapped up and devoured whole.
This August night,
seen by me and you,
no longer with child,
its insides desolate, yearning for a meteorite.
John Hansen received a BA in English from the University of Iowa and an MA in English Literature from Oklahoma State University. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Summerset Review, Verse-Virtual, Trouvaille Review, One Sentence Poems, Schuylkill Valley Journal, Eunoia Review, Amethyst Review, Sparks of Calliope, and elsewhere. He is English Faculty at Mohave Community College in Arizona. Read more at johnphansen.com.
Heartbreakingly beautiful
This is touching and done in a unique way.
Awesome poem.