light seeps yellow up from the ground where we have built our domiciles
and stains the sky
our planet shimmers like water, like a bird bathing in water
and
when we walk it may be that we leave a trail of inky footprints,
shadows sewn around the edges of our heels, if we would keep still, which fade again
to brightness
I squeeze my eyelids shut but the afterglow,
red and veiny yellow, remembers what I've seen,
and what I saw before that, and what I've yet to see
some astronomers
wonder
how to dim the whole stretched-out desert,
I drove across it night after night, along Speedway toward the city's fringe,
or out to the airport, or for the oceanic thought of LA
like I was driving the earth, dragging a continent and its hills through a fierce dark, the silver bit between my teeth
and to adorn my hair I chose every kind of light
wavering pool-green orbs and streetlamps and luminarias and motion-
triggered floods and tiki torches and little dancing
cigarette lighter flames and pixelated billboards and traffic
signals and key fob laserbeams and candles and power strip
switches and camera flashes
the astronomers wish
because
for some things
to be visible
it must be absolutely dark
and quiet,
still
the sky moves, it is as busy as all our instruments of timekeeping and navigation
2
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The second draft was written in the light.
Lovely lyricism.
Favourited for the 'afterglow' line, a wonderful evocation of the image held on the retina being shot through with blood vessels.
But also the description of the various city lights dancing under the night sky was terrific too.
First of all, welcome to Fictionaut.
Lots of great imagery here. I like "red and veiny yellow," "for some things to be visible it must be absolutely dark."
Well done.
Beautiful, Chalon :)
Fabulous, Chalon, both deft and big, everything alive here, and glowing, like something illuminated from the inside out.