The silent satellite, sliding
across the face of the Milky Way,
holds my gaze, unblinking,
makes notes I cannot see
and knows more than I know
about where I have been and
and what it is that pleases me.
SATELLITE, SATELLITE
Published inTwitter Poems
Words from the Jagged Edge of Truth
The silent satellite, sliding
across the face of the Milky Way,
holds my gaze, unblinking,
makes notes I cannot see
and knows more than I know
about where I have been and
and what it is that pleases me.