Perseid meteors, 2015
I went to dig for falling stars
alone in a shadowed field
I sifted the dappled dome of air
for the cascade promised once in a lifetime
I saw only the stillness in-between
but realized how sleepless the night is —
blinking satellites, tower beacons,
endless threading airplane flash
and glimmering, impatient faroff worlds.
I did see one, maybe it was part of the shower
maybe it was falling anyway
slashed majestically across the arc of sky
in one brushstroke burning itself out
I could see why they once thought
this was Mercury, setting emptiness on fire
as he trailed away taking what he had to tell
Mercury, the messenger
Why do we think we ask the stars for things?
Adam McGovern is a Contributing Editor at HiLobrow.com, and reads poetry at fringe-culture salons throughout the New York area.