Keith Holyoak
Out of Kilter
All day the world felt just a bit off
balance. And yet, nothing was really wrong—
the late summer sun shone at least as bright
as yesterday (though not for quite so long).
Barbecue weather—kind of day to loaf
outside, tracking a hummingbird in flight.
The sun blazed crimson, dimmed, and then was gone.
Tonight, lying beside my wife, I caught
a knife-edged moon peering at us. I held her
tight to my chest, as though we both might float
away without seeing another dawn.
Hard to sleep when the world’s gone out of kilter….
Been meaning to catch up—figured to give
you a call soon. Your voice inside my head
retells a story. Smiling, I’m amused to
hear it again—till I recall instead
how this day was the first I’ve been alive
when you are not. Takes some getting used to.
in memory of Edward E.
Smith, 1940-2012
