She tries to catch a starry night in a jar.
All the blues run past the window panes,
yesterday’s sunlight fuels the trees veins,
and the moon is on the sky’s shoulders
like a child clinging tightly to her father’s neck.
The woods are dark;
there’s dark everywhere.
There’s dark in her eyes
and dark in her mouth.
Dark seeping under her bedroom door,
and dark rattling the screened windows.
There’s dark hugging the moon
and dark pulling in daylight soon.
Her eyes heavy with sleep
and her jar heavy with stars
she floats above the trees,
light as a child clinging tightly to her father’s neck
and full of dreams like a child clinging to night.
