Lonely Star

 

Way back when

you played that song for me

your strong fingertips

doing a box step

between the frets

a dance routine in miniature

I watched the swell

of the muscles in your forearm

at the effort and the art

of vibrating air

 

You didn’t speak

you didn’t have to

 

I was eavesdropping—

listening in

on the truth of you

in the pitching of your weight

as you played

like a seabird teetering

in a strong wind

in the fold of your brow

as you summoned

a daydream

distant and shining

 

You didn’t speak—

I wish you would

 

Show me yours

hold your light up to mine

I could snack on these crumbs

and eat your stolen secrets

but I’d rather be fed

at the table of your dreaming

and the night sky is best viewed

through the eye

of some dove-hearted dreamer

 

Lonely star,

drop the act