Speck of flickering light in the sky, distant moon
gleam of sharp tooth, Bestla, mother of Vili and Ve
the brothers who felled the tall, spindly trees into logs
peeled away the outer bark then used them to build
great halls open to the thin, clear air of the north
the land of blankets on laps and outdoor space heaters
in summertime cafes, of light that stretches in the realm
of night, shines in hidden places until the great chill
drives it out, when two bodies orbit each other in the sky
face turned to light-filled face, when they stay in synch
become more than friends, more than brothers, under cover
of dark that falls after season’s end, they form a binary
system, a society of two, pulled close together by each
other’s gravity, the sureness of being the first face to appear
in each other’s sky, the curve and glow of the same smile
the same bright certainty, there’s a disturbance called
a Kozai mechanism that comes from light years away
a distant presence that disturbs the binary, a discordant chord
breaking through the timeless harmony of space, each
binary system sings in a different key, the range so far beyond
human, its existence can’t be proven, only destroyed
there were times I fell into step with a well-matched binary
felt the sureness of knowing when and where to step without
having to look down, unbothered by faraway disturbance
knowing I could rise with nothing more than the idea of wings
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James Joseph Brown is an American writer, editor, and educator based in Dubai. He earned his MFA from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. His poetry has appeared in Tiger Leaping Review, The Raven Review, Resurrection Magazine, Red Rock Review, and many other publications. Visit him at www.jamesjosephbrown.com. |