A full moon shone behind rippled clouds,
a silent con trail drew across night sky.
Blue light threw the trail’s long shadow
against a cloud on its solitary stroll.
The moon, slow to move, stood quiet,
an appreciative eye, saw the trail and its dark second
diverge and drift apart. Light on the cirrus scales
shifted as if soft fish turned in sky water,
past the two lines of light and shadow,
an illusion of depths overhead like those below
in earth, in sea, temporarily brighter
than the unseen schools of stars.
Jayne Marek’s poetry has appeared in publications such as Blast Furnace, Gravel, Lantern Journal, Siren, Spillway, Driftwood Bay, Tipton Poetry Journal, Isthmus, The Occasional Reader, Wisconsin Academy Review, and Windless Orchard and in several anthologies. She also has a chapbook and has co-authored a book of poems.