Brief Splendor
Falling through our orbit, falling, falling
an Icarus from past the planet’s ring
shooting through dark and empty space
The hot embraces of the sun
have turned its ice to gaseous flames
streaming in pennants through the night
Waking before the sun’s first light
I huddled in blankets from the chill of spring
searching the eastern quadrant
For the brilliant smear
falling, falling
Lari Smith