‘Early bird dirge’ and other poems
By: Gabi Probst
Totality – 4/9/24
In the background, I like to think
the light of mine you stifle
(cosmic coincidence)
twinkles to be beautiful
remembered for our stories
brushes of bright reach
out over dark canvas
momentous in my narrative
typical in yours? you move
like any other day
oblivious or uncaring
but still synchronized with me
I’ll shine around you while we last
—the cross of our elliptical paths.
Where Flying Fish Are Found When They Find Fish Can’t Fly
Fall out from the wind
Far from where you came
Few go anyway
Find that it’s nicer
Fog is now solace
Fate no longer fear
Early Bird Dirge
We gather here at twelve
on the hand of a grandfather clock.
The first tick felt silent,
but I hear the next prep
to throw us down and far
Danny jokes.
The room drums, and I think:
the air muses for a memory,
lamenting down the line.
Does my affliction find you and seep?
It is a bane and a comfort now,
to be sentimental.
Do you banish it out
to forget where we meet,
precarious on a turning tip?
Next tick and we will have
scattered down.
A few more and I will
have made it here again,
Danny gone, and you too,
caught up in the minute.
July
You play nice with me from all across the field
Didn’t know it could stay this warm under a dark sky
Til’ poising my love to hang huge but concealed
The March night I found you that felt like July
Chirp
The bird flew by quick to visit again
after letting me distantly hear the song,
and I found as I got giddy that
the tune was never the bird all along.
Of course, the bird sings, but what I loved to admire
was my silent chorus that it would inspire.
Sedimentary
I recall like river rocks relocated to a lawn,
who project bright color ghosts
when it showers,
the faces that never age
and always smile,
characters in my own sweet
phenomenon.