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.