MINNESOTA

The night fully settles
over northern Minnesota
in the sky grows dark
as the stars make
their reluctant appearance.
Peering through the tall grasses
of the wetlands abutting the road
1000 stars are born
and die in an instant
only to be reborn again
repeatedly, until
they are replaced by
the beetles that accompany
the slowly rising sun.

A CLIO MOMENT

Each morning I should take a moment
and seriously question whether I have
any history or should want any.

Each day I know in that moment that
I have the option of being reborn, of being
someone who never existed before,

and the price of this is shedding all
of my former selves, an erasure I fear
without reason, for reason says

that this moment demands my naked
presence bereft of the masks and
trapping I so easily choose to hide within.

This morning I did pause in front
of the mirror, and asked if it knew me,
and it laughed, said, “never seen you before.”

Tomorrow I will deny today and most
yesterdays, this I know is the right
course for what will be a ghost ship.