Ecclesiastes, reduced to
by Mark Yakich
[ poetry - may 08 ]
The telescope ascends
And I am buried here in the middle
Of some damn book the observatory
At the top of the hill contains
Its bubble of certainty I look up
And feel like a weed a wind slips through
My hair and I don't feel it but I know
It's there and there's no
Need anymore
To believe in the stars.
