Didn’t we think we were more than this―
little suns unfurling above the earth?

We thought we were constellations
in soil, entire galaxies anchored to dust.

Ravenous, we believed our thousand
arms could hoard the horizon―

eclipsing ourselves even as we waned,
bereft of all but shadow.

-Marci Calabretta, Thrush Poetry Journal

Tagged: brother poem, Brother Returns As Chrysanthemum, little suns, Marci Calabretta, Marci Calabretta poem, poetry, sun, Thrush Poetry Journal