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Sunday, September 25, 2016

Anagolay

is a ghost of a name 
from a ten-sentence news
about an asteroid. Intrigued,
I scoured page
after page of search results,
but only found bits of this
and that.

I wish I can 
disappear that way, too--

thoroughly.

But with a cookie-
crumb trail

to lead someone,

anyone,

into the abyss
of my absence.




Friday, September 2, 2016

Fireworks

A thousand sparklers 
tore the night,
showered golden stars 

to the ground.

I raised a hand 
to catch the pretty
lights,

but it was dust 
that settled
on my palm.

The cheer  
that blossomed 
in my chest,

escaped my mouth
a soundless 
         "oh."

I forgot,
when fireworks         
  fall,
they fall as
 nothing

but soot. 

(an old, old poem. reworked)