Dog star, always there,
in the dog days of summer,
in these winter hours
that pass like small lifetimes,
secret, still, enclosed.
I forget sometimes
that being a tide
involves wide margins,
sea changes, rushing in
and reticence in equal measure–
never ever there
but always moving towards it.
Dog star, still there,
waiting faithfully
at the edge of the horizon.
Not a portent. Not an omen,
but maybe an answer to some
unspoken longing.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
In my top 5 C poems. Totally Not Optional.
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I like this one for its winsome wistfulness. Too often you write sad existential pieces (observation not criticism) this has a timelessness in it. 🙂 (I’m your fan whatever you do.)
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I know… but thank you for reading it all 🙂
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My pleasure, and I did say, observation, not criticism. 🙂
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Do you have a science background? A lot of your poems sound beautiful and kind of technical in the best way possible.
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Thank you! And yes, I do– how funny that it shows through
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