regret
the astrolabe of regret
Folder:
bridging poems
The Astrolabe of Regret
I set the brass to north,
the needle quivers —
a tremor I pretend is wind.
Each degree a year
I failed to turn back.
At dusk,
the fixed star
is only a smudge of ash.
(Margin note: “Merchants once navigated by these same stars; some never returned.”)
.
not the way we should have done it
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2023 Dripping in Gold
Folder:
NEW STUFF Poems 2020 Blue Glittering
Folder:
2019