The little hand on the clock ticks and the big hand
mimes the escape into the stars. The pod doors
open to ghosts and newts. This artificial light pours
in random details—the rest of our lives. We have
so little time. Your father was from another time,
a time when households had dust, lists, libraries.
Our journey doesn’t make any sense, but if we
squint until tears arrive, willfully staring, we quiver
with fear—fear of time, of the impeding takeover.
Flattened penny, souvenir, I have the pocket—
the secret we kept together, the big gesture.
I should’ve protected us from the fiery fantasy
that burned like a lit cigarette. At first it doesn’t make
sense, but gradually you learn this is the end
of your life, and it doesn’t have to make sense.
About the Author
Cat Dixon is the author of What Happens in Nebraska (Stephen F. Austin University Press, 2022) along with six other poetry chapbooks and collections. She is a poetry editor with The Good Life Review. Recent poems published in Thimble Lit Mag, Poor Ezra’s Almanac, and Moon City Review.
