My sorrow was minor
in the scheme
of things, as Icarus says—
weighing loss against luck.
I gathered a bouquet
of milkweed
from the shoulder
of the secondary road
hardly travelled anymore,
whisk of traffic
from the parallel highway
unable to erase
the ticking of the heart
monitor—it was
only a dog, my friend said—
as he skimmed a rock
across the pond
no unfettered canine fetched
this moonless evening.
Where were the throngs
of perch? The glittering birds?
The rustle of his white-tipped
tail rousing phantom
raccoons, fleeing
the concentric ripples?
The last pink
cloud lick the black water?
Stelios Mormoris is a native of Vouiagmeni, GREECE, and Martha’s Vineyard, MA. He has published a debut book of poetry titled “The Oculus”, and is forthcoming with a second book, “Perishable”, both published by TUPELO PRESS.
