By Art Dog
Date: 8 November 1999

Atlas Pining

As moonlight spills over the tops of the trees
she sits naked on a hillside's summer grass.
Uprooted wildflowers held white-knuckle tight,
her solemn stare aimed high.

I sit below her, reaching
but unable to hold her sky,
an empty armed Atlas, pining.

Like the soft pulling apart of cotton gauze,
she rises in silent goodbye.
My shoulders that once offered solace,
are now the springboard for her flight.

Amidst withering Wisteria blooms,
the cotton's loose ends drift,
and snag
Little footprints on my back.