May 2015 - Comments Off

Molly Kirschner

I Forgot

about the moon, so she grew, she
blew up and lit up and fixed me
with a look.

So I came as close as I could.

I lay my back against the grass. Here I am.
The mouth of the earth waters and I thirst
for the stars of three summers ago.
For the stars that were shared.

A branch reaches down to pull me up.
We just shake hands.

Published by: in Issue 1: Fall 2014, Poetry, Volume 71

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