Tiny Bright Fish

God we’re still
your hand in mine,
on our backs in cool sweating grass.
Stars dart like fish through oil-black seas;
ravenous fish.
No wonder astronomers are sometimes
But then you and then you
and then you
while Mandelbrot’s set wheels
above us, below us, through us
and we have an eternity
to take it all in.


Editor’s Corner


Couldn't connect to http://nelilly.greententacles.com/feed/.