Quintile

by Richard King Perkins II

A copper token forges a place
in the unlit sky.

I can see the contours of another life
playing out in dim silhouette.

Bodies and foliage in swirling arabesque
sculpt a new astronomy.

A chimney’s blue smoke obscures
the possibility of hybrid mosaics.

As our car nears the train station
you ask me why we name

the patterns in stars
and not the emptiness of shapes between.

 

[Check out Richard’s back porch wisdom]