The Universe Continues to Expand at 6 a.m.
Jo Brachman

Standing under a faded sky, what you are feeling,
whatever you have tried not to feel, arrives.
You begin mourning like an ancient,
as if you remember a pre-dawn more star-filled.
Bright flash gone missing, the sky withers down
on all towns of the earth, their bodies of water
reflecting kitchens with people devoted
to explosions of their present moment.
Monstrous beauty escaping, the sky burns up
dropped edges of the trees. Gravity lets go
what you had hoped to keep. Your body numbs
as if you are the space in-between,
as if you have already gone.


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