it appears in my eye
like a ghost image
a smear of light
like lipstick on a glass
transparent, misted
a smudge on a backdrop of
of stars crystalline in their pulsing
with the rhythm of my blood
in the nautical darkness
i pull off the road
wary of flat-tire nails on backroads
and hidden snakes in summer-brittle grasses
heart-thumping primitive sensations
sing to me, attend me
outside the screaming of headlamps
even the stones seem luminous
like jellyfish pulsing in a dark sea
a symbiotic darkness with the sky
the comet is
a rhetorical light tunnel
gopher-like in its embellishment
shai-halud in its magic
i burrow down into my own slow-motion tunnel
smudge my own darkness with evensong
ecstatic in the complicity of comets
When Ginny is not examining flowers with a close-up lens, or watching how the scales on a lizard’s back glint in the sun she can usually be found writing. She has been published in many venues – find her at www.ginnyshort.com.
Comet Storm / Image by Shelly
Jalmurra 