Fire of Friends

under stars in wicker chairs
galaxy sparks have reached us,
those and the spare, streaked flash of
meteors in August
the Milky Way, its dust,
its mob of crowded suns
with elbow rooms of light years
disappearing behind the house roof south
and the trees north at Halberg’s garden,
is smudge-like in this billion-year
backward gaze —bolts of light
which left home young, now after eons
still spark and blaze in a present
fire of friends

by Jim Culleny


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