New Constellations

The stars took the summer off.
Plump raspberries replaced them.

The raspberries never figured out
how to twinkle.

There was a reddish hue cast at night
upon the earth’s surface.

Too much like a digital clock in a hotel room
flashing the colon between numbers.

A lot of one night stands took place.
And people checking out early.

By the end of summer the raspberries
succumbed to rot and blackened one by one.

When the stars returned from holiday
they were not quite sure where to stand.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Anchoring The Earth

The tree of darkness balanced its shade.
Between all its leaves spiders spun webs.

In only one spot a circle of moonlight snuck through.
It illuminated a heart surrounding two names carved on its trunk.

The question is who would choose such a tree
to declare their love?

Even here a breeze disguises a greater breath
its collision with my cheek and throat.

As the moon sets, the spiders’ abdomens
issue a phosphorescent glow.

The leafy canopy blocks out all other constellations
to create its own in radiant blue hues.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney