A Comet’s Return

a comet’s

been gone

for too long

 

it wasted a day,

streaking past me,

for a second or two

 

I felt my better English

return to water—

all I needed

 

couldn’t believe it’d been that long

since I’d been needed—

eyes wet prisms

 

porches with candle scars

knuckles dancing in the chill

limbs bridged over canals

 

I left lone in a night,

marked bright by a tail—

long gone

 

but I

know now how

to write a comet down

 

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