Houses of the Stars
Megan Collins [photo by Monica Igras]
Full of logic my brain rejects
my heart’s desire for a destiny
of you and me. The Genesis cosmic
lawnmower spewing snipped leaves of
grass clippings and star dust. A mulch
of Whitman and Sagan in agreement of
a certain creativity. I loved you ardently
but far better I grasp the Universe as it really is
than to persist in delusion,
however satisfying and reassuring.
What is satisfying about a grand Bobby Fischer employing
the perfect pawn in the perfect place?
What is reassuring about designing deities determining
who we embrace?
You and I are the houses we chose for and to shelter. The houses
we’ve matured into after multiple lifetimes. We’ve maintained
so many, many houses. Fixer-uppers mostly and we’re tired. Delusions
are for start-ups, not those of us finding ourselves.
We are not angry that the stars do not rise and set for us,
or that we are not the reason
there is a Universe because a leaf of grass is no less
than the journey-work of the stars.
* * * * *
Megan Collins was born in Illinois but has lived all over the lower 48. She currently resides with her life partner in various stages of packing and unpacking. She writes mainly poetry and short stories but is working on a novel, handwritten on various sized spiral notebooks strewn about.