Little Lights

My first poem for National Poetry Month:

the supernova that preceded life before you

leveled earth and left me crumbling

bear while the witnesses to this destruction

averted their stone eyes. And forced

the stars in my eyes to go out. My world fell

into a void, all around me life dissolved.

What I believed was steady foundation became

fragile and lost—nothing but sand. I followed figments

and wisps, apparitions that led me through the rough pavement

of abandoned streets who whispered of something

other then this.

Eyes to the stars, trying to find them, lying

at the side of a street, undone. I grabbed small flecks of light

that gathered around me. Slowly, I found my feet

emerging from the ocean of a gutter that was the only shelter

that could exist in this void. One day amidst those sparks, finding

my way out they led me still partially lost to a dinner, for a club

at a small restaurant where you walked in. The room fell quiet

a revelation spread when I first saw you, arriving

like so many stars in a night sky