Is This Poetry?

You tell me.

Can it be a conversation

that starts in the dark

on the porch steps

some moonless new moon

summer night loaded

with oh so many stars

that you have to walk out

in the middle of the yard

to really take it all in

and decide to lie down

on the ground to

catch the best view

of the whole shittin’ show:

the Dippers (Big and Little)

Polaris and Cassiopeia,

Orion’s Belt, Venus and Mars,

the Dog Star, that gauzy

mind-boggling, jaw-dropping

Milky Way, plus the elliptical

flights of occasional satellites

or red-pulsing planes periodically

blown away by some showering

shooting star? You know

I don’t know much,

but this is enough

to convince me all is perfect

in its place like you here

with me silently flat on

our backs and stoned again

on the cool evening air

of stardust and sky,

that breath we share.


Mark Gibbons

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