They traipse down these streets at night,
armloads of books,
and pencils in bags which were slung over shoulders
like toting an artillery of knowledge to the beach.
They’d sit upon the dock with toes wiggling above the waters surface,
fish swimming merrily beneath with eyes cast upward toward this taunting and intriguing creature.
Their wonderment overwhelming the silence
like a crate of red bricks smashing down on sheets of metal.
They left their fondest selves amongst us all.
Like a stained-glass window with the sun shining through,
their colours washed above and below even the darkest of spaces.
Even the coldest moments were temporarily cozier,
and every time they’d share one of their cinnamon scented hugs
they’d warm us.
And we’d no sooner become used to the freshness of jasmine
brushed through their hair like soft memories, before it’s
aroma wavered, leaving nothing forgotten
but many wonderful things swept out to sea.
In every breath, like a whisper on the whiskers of kittens
they linger.
A softness and a power so relentless and self-assured
that it was as if we were all awaiting the fireworks to explode in front of our eyes, mouth agape in confusion at this combustible creature.
There was rarity there, a longing for intrepid feats only the seemingly fearless can take.
And a daring that crept up on you,
leaving the worlds boldest tastes upon your tongue no matter the food you ate.
And they paid homage to the planets.
Their ghosts softly sat in the fields across the street from our homes;
smoke would gently billow up toward the sky
as they sang during their almost mournfully painful rituals,
telescopes pointing at the stars like fingers were pointed at the accused.
Their flaxen manes blending in with the parched blades of grass.
Freckles developing deeper indents on their faces and shoulders,
as if the sun were intentionally mocking their next lover.
Like the planet was smiling bashfully and saying, “I kissed them first, and I will love them last”.
And from wherever that faraway person came
I’m at the very least happy that they did,
like a cosmic star child, all grown up and beautified by the trials of their lives
and the gargantuan journey to this part of the universe.
Their imprint was bestowed upon the world with a sense of dutifully borrowed time.
They rekindled our spirit of enthusiasm and joyful authenticity
with every barefooted glance.
I still remember their toes
which they sunk deeply into these earthly soils.
And without a moment to spare, they’d foster within us the desire to know ourselves with their steely gaze of unteachable and blatant wildness.
Neon Observatory 