Staring down a waning January moon,
I feed dry brush to the campfire,
watch the desert track of freight cars
rounding a mesa silhouette.
Wild dogs yelp, loping the crossties.
Rising night pulls at my hat brim,
carries bright sparks,
Orion’s cast of meteor showers.
Ordering lists of injuries, errors, losses,
parables shaped from leaning on luck,
I’m trying to recover
the message in movement–
the wind drift of dunes,
a canyon bridge being crossed.
Standing in symmetries of
fire, sandstone, falling stars,
I push hands into a coat I pull close,
wait for the silence in patience,
in solitude, to arrive.
About the Poet
R.T. Castleberry’s work has appeared in Blue Collar Review, K’in, Pedestal Magazine, Misfit, Trajectory, The Alembic and Switchback. Internationally, he has published in Canada, Great Britain, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, New Zealand, Portugal. the Philippines and Antarctica.