The moon will absolve you

You will fall;
gray dust crumbling,
from fingers, to bones,
as gravity draws out
the night of endless space.
I will watch from Earth,
and remember —
when all such satellites
lingered, close.
Your dust is pure,
and bright.
What words
I never said,
in this dark place.

Meg Smith is a poet, writer, journalist, dancer and events producer living in Lowell, Mass. Her poems have appeared in The Cafe Review, Pudding, Poetry Bay, The Horror Zine, Silver Blade, Raven Cage, The Blue Hour Anthology, and many more. Her most recent poetry books, This Scarlet Dancing and Dear Deepest Ghost, are available on Amazon. She welcomes visits to megsmithwriter.net.

Find more by Meg Smith in the Author Index.

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