Jun 282010

by Joseph Ferguson

Late at night,

When the house creaks

And mice make tiny music

To the opening

And closing

Of car doors

In the street,

I think of you

Waving in winter

From a bridge of snow,

Coat a green puff

On white canvass,


Black brush strokes

On the bluster.

There, beyond midnight,

While earth turns

Toward sun,

And television

Fills the room

With the blue glow

Of the Big Bang.

As you sleep above me,

Beneath the attic,

And an expanding universe,

I see us moving

Like two stars

At light speed,



Always away…

From    one    another.

Deep in that darkness,

When the workings

Of mice

And men

And galaxies

Make themselves


And reflection

Seems a quantum,

Tangible force,

That can act upon

The physical world,

I fill our small universe

With theories,

Of pasts, and

Possible futures,

And hope for

The missing mass

That will send us

On that great

Gravitational tumble

Together again.