The Bottom Shelf Review

Sitting on the back porch

Shelling peanuts with my father.

Looking up, up, up

At the dark night sky

Pockmarked with specks of light.

Dancers who burn and twirl,

Shining light through the eternal night.

They’ve called to me since then,

For so long

Sometimes I can’t remember why.

Perhaps it’s just because they are pretty and shiny and

The animal part of my brain thinks they’re neat.

Or perhaps it is because it is I, too,

Who sheds light that must travel far to be seen.