April 23

Giò’s fingers drip day-lit sparks of luminescence
from below, scaled sea dragons eye the surface
the sail lifts away from the water
and suddenly
and silently
all is air and the future

Castro Marina 200901

I blinked and the firework was a flower on the back of my eye, evening star soaring as the moon sank beyond the town wall. Where the sea had been this morning was deep nothingness, holding glassy afloat the lights of the outgoing boats. A moment, and the moon.