by Rae Rozman

Eulogy for arrival

Show me the lights
where, among them, she is waiting:
a tiny speck of heat
in a dark green truck
in the cell phone lot
at the Baltimore airport.

Show me the lights
of a sprawling city
where, out in the dark places,
home is waiting.
Where hyacinths rest
on a cluttered table
where a purple quilt
will warm my nights.

Show me the lights
growing brighter every second.
Show me the marvels
of hello.

***

breaking

Breaking
down
is not the opposite of
up

and (into) can mean
)out of(
depending on where you stand

There isn’t a vase lined with gold
that makes our shattering beautiful.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t.

Image by mariaamanda0140 from Pixabay