upstream

David Williams

we are a darkened room,
damply curtained.

in us, a window opens.
stars and a moon are out.
“who are we?” you ask
but i don’t know.

so we imagine a sailboat and
head upstream.
we eat everything on board.
the pantry empties.

we sail and sail
under bright night skies.

as the moon sets in the west
with a bright green flash,
in the east
the sun rises.

and we,
the damp and
impenetrable darknesses,
embrace.
 
 
 
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Archives: Fall 2010.