A Letter to Adirondack Skies Sedona Mist

A Letter to Adirondack Skies // Carolyn Kiely I spend more time than I’m willing to admit Gazing upon your star stricken face. As I gaze into the abyss that I believed I recognized, I realize that there is nothing else in this world That I could know less than you. Excuse me as I count your every star while I track planes’ flashing lights And wonder if they will ever sparkle at people The way that your eyes do. You wink at bulk standard Romantics Who search for hope in your eyes. They wish on light speed eyelashes floating by For your fire to consume them and The promises they wouldn’t keep. I lay beneath you, Swaddle myself in you As children do with long-loved blankets, As lovers do with stolen sweaters , As mourners do with everything that still smells unforgotten. Each breath that fills my lungs a reminder Of the anchoring weight of belonging. I have never been this heavy. You gift me acrobats and wishes and soft huffs of laughter, Steal from me every exhale and giggle, Pull me to you like lovers floating along Dancing on chilling air and breathy winds. I miss you. For every day that the lights drag my face from your gaze And wayward clouds pass over me, rendering me helpless, Your eyes are a thousand mile stare. As I twirl beneath you, trailing ink, You are a page that I can not be taken from. We will only break eye contact As we blink in and out of life.