The difference between being seen, & not. Chances are,
you’d survive a plane crash. That’s good. A reason to cry, even,
Robert Boyle, as you consult your 300 year-old list of
advances you hoped to see, art of flying among them.
Perpetual light though, that’s tricky. We have words, aglow,
& gratitude. A sign in front of a church: Gratitude is the memory
of a happy heart. That, that seems good. At the concert,
an old woman beside me keeps her fingers in her ears because,
she explains, she shot a gun last night & they’re still ringing.
Later, she tells me to go ahead, to stand up & dance. That’s
really good. To be in agreement that dancing might be
better than speaking to a burning room, might be the only
thing the dead can’t use to find peace. There’s a poem
I can’t afford. On the way home, a hawk overhead, grateful.
Dalton Day is the author of Exit, Pursued (Plays Inverse) & Spooky Action at a Distance (Spork Press, forthcoming). They are a recipient of a James A. Michener poetry fellowship, and their poems have been featured in Matador Review, fields, Shabby Doll House & The Art Institute of Chicago. They can be found at tinyghosthands.com.