still making sense

still making sense of wonder…
i count the stars above us
from Ontario to Aliso,
how many miles of night
is there between us? the
spark behind shooting stars
and the rapid twinkle of
lights across the sky as
though breath, nervous as
hell to confess undying love,
words which can’t be besmirched
by any doubt or uncertainty.
darkness may camouflage
temporarily what we feel,
but morning with its clarity
exposes the gravity of my
truth— this hit and run
i can’t get away from— you
and i in this instant collision

poem©mrg 9/20/16

Stars will pick up from here. Photo©mrg 2016.

Stars will pick up from here. Photo©mrg 2016.