Aqueduct

Under the low-sky of tenements, 

air crumbling as toast, 

you looked up to find something 

beyond the dirty fingernails 

of a water-bound city. 

Made out of the cells, the likes 

of you. Something to make the sidewalks 

verging, green. Bigger 

than the cramped desks of decades 

old classrooms. Unmoved 

by the bruises flowering 

on the back of your head.

You looked up, saw Orion circling 

the moon like an eagle. 

Thought maybe, there 

was something 

bigger than darkness, the cold 

cuticles of a universe 

not cut for the broadsided eye. And 

who's to say

you were not

right

Author's Note

2014