Out on a Ridge

 

We met on the rim of a star…

some say a cold one.

(From the distance…

I’ll grant that viewpoint.)

You were as close

as my breathing…

the crystal ridges melted.

 

From the distance,

who could have seen

that fire of no hues

that dissolves all sharp edges?

We passed through

and around each other once

(or was it twice?)

and then I had to leave.

The ship was waiting,

hovering silently for my return.

 

Did I ever ask you to sit beside me

on the long journey,

back to the jungle planet

of ineffable life-breathing green?

 

Even now Rainbow Birds make

the same sound I thought I recalled,

as you said lovingly,

“In another life…”

disappearing before I could ask

which one.

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