“Falling Star” by E. N. Dahl

 

 

Vines wind in a ladder to the sky,

Clinging to the temple trunk.

 

Deep in her bough, Claire pays homage,

Revering the kind silence of a full moon

 

Hanging so large in the sky

None could dare mock it.

 

Light falls on her arms, illuminating

Lines as pale as the night’s light,

 

Connecting and crossing like constellations

Marking the way to despair.

 

Feet resting on the trembling branch

Fingertips that out into every shade of black

 

Beyond the sky, she pretends to snuff

Out each star with her thumb

 

Until nothing remains.

She’s happier this way.

 

Beneath the gloom of a blotted heaven,

Ignoring the lash of father’s cruel tongue and

 

The sting of her mother’s palm is far

Easier. Claire is the only light left,

 

An angel gazing down upon the earth,

Until she allows herself to fall.

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