It's Still Life

Why I Miss My Sister

Do you remember that summer at the lake,
when we decided to sleep outside
because the house was too hot.

And you say, Yes. Vaguely …

and then you look away,
up at the sky and the clouds,
and you go quiet for at least
a whole long minute,

and then you say, What about it…

Do you remember how dark it was,
and how bright the stars were.

Yes. Vaguely, you say.
And then you go quiet again.

I remember I felt so small, and even though
the stars were the tiniest pin prick lights,
I shrank under their gaze. I wanted to be
deep in their rich black soup. Carried off.
Lost. I wanted to be lost in that same way
a person wants to be loved. I remember
that it made me cry, and you stared at me,
as if you didn’t know how to bring me back.

And you’re staring at me like back then –
and you say, It’s called starlorn, that feeling
when the night sky abandons you.

And then you slip back into your quiet,
a blossom closed as the first stars appear.

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This is semi-autobiographical, as obviously the conversation about starlorn didn’t happen, but most everything else did. Written for dVerse Poets – a word from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Starlorn: a sense of loneliness looking up at the night sky, feeling like a castaway in the middle of the ocean, whose currents are steadily carrying off all other castaways. ©Misky 2021 Shared with #apoemaday on Twitter