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The Sky and Everything


by Darryl Price


I'll bet the sky can find you. I'm sure of 
this. I cannot. If we were on an island 
the world would still find a way to touch 
your feet. The winds would comb out your hair, even 
if I had no hands to give them help. 
Poems don't make the best combs anyway. 
They are way too noisy crashing through the 
dancing innocent leaves and branches like 
inelegant giants. Birds would find your 
beauty interesting, as  feathers as 
something new. Water would easily find 

you in its deepest depths. Sun would try, every 
new day, I'm sure, to lay its clammy 
hands on your sloping shoulders. I don't underestimate 
nature wanting to be 
always that close to you. Flowers would fly 
your name in all the colors without ever 
knowing how to spell it correctly. I 
would like to say your name to your face. I 
can't help it. Words are useless bits of twisted 
metal. They cannot find you with a 

railroad lantern in each hand. They only 
make themselves look like idiots tied up 
in more and more sheets of heartbreaking musical 
failures. It just doesn't sound good. 
Nothing sounds good. You'd want me to never 
venture out of the heart's cave again. And 
you want me to look through glowing walls at 
the stacked and coiling universe and take 
a low bow. You need not worry, you said. 
You wanted me to accept that the distance 

between us is just one dragonfly 
away. But the punch was too hard, too real. 
It stole more than my breath. It took everything.  
I had no idea which way to 
go any more. I still just don't know. Maybe
this song will find you. Stranger things have 
happened. But it's not me. It's just a single 
shattered piece of someone who fell into 
a moonbeam and disappeared from view. But
it's worth a try. This open container.
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