Washing the night sky
The twinkles of fork prongs
And curves of little dippers
Extend themselves as for me to get a handle
On the night sky
But as I approach the moon plate dish
I realize I cannot
I wax and wain and circle the
Full bright orb
Getting nowhere with the stains
The stars and fork prongs
See that I'm distracted
The rush of nighttime post-shower
Pre-sleep soft skin sheet kiss
Leaves a stare and a freeze
I am breathless
Powerless to the night sky
The dippers float back to heaven
The stars ride soap bubbles away
And the dish
Runs away
With the moon
