What Goes Up

1.

Sliver, not-quite-half moon,

bright and unencumbered by clouds,

listening to the sounds of left-over

4th of July fireworks that pop like cap guns,

small cannons, and sometimes

like the backfire of a car or handgun gunshot.

Some crackle in the summer evening heat:

once bright, then suddenly fizzling.

2.

If I were to think us summiting a ridge,

some unexpected peak in our path,

and we could see the valley from whence

that mountain grew,

then we could surely understand and know

the valley into which we would soon descend.

3.

The air is getting thin up here.

And I don’t know about you,

but I can’t breathe.