First Star by John Savoie

First Star

Beyond the gap
in October clouds
a single star
flickers so blear
it might be the coin
we wished upon,
that tumbling arc,
silver plink,
fluttering fall,
the two faces
twisting to see
eye to eye.
Now, there it lies,
one face buried
in silt and sleep,
the other still
waiting wide-eyed
in the liquid dark,
and on the one night
the light can reach
to the bottom
of that old well,
it winks once more.

by John Savoie, first published in River Oak Review

Editor’s Note: The poet calls this poem “twenty three shades of dimeter.” I call it an imagery rich sonic romp.