Sometimes I think
I hear the stars speak.
Low, spinning voices
conducted by the moon.
On my way to Jupiter,
I lost you.
Your face melted into
a burning star.
I sing to the sky.
It winks at me.
The moon became
your only eye.
It attracts a symphony.
A choir of comets
introduced you to me.

Indiana University Southeast Literary Journal, May 1996
Canvas Magazine, Volume Two Number One, April 1998