Late, just a bit too late
for the moon to lose its purpose;
swallowed by the Susquehanna Valley,
I drive back to work
to cloister myself for a few more hours,
denying myself a place of intimacy
in the rural darkness
among humans and others of our kind.
I’ve stolen a place
of diffused light and seclusion
to find a lesser view of fellowship;
its dark and complicated yearnings.
After work, I drive to the fluvial watershed
and pry the moon loose from a bear trap,
releasing it into a new and distant orbit
that isn’t an orbit at all.
Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee whose work has appeared in hundreds of publications including The Louisiana Review, Bluestem, Emrys Journal, Sierra Nevada Review, Roanoke Review, The Red Cedar Review and The William and Mary Review. He has poems forthcoming in Sobotka Literary Magazine, The Alembic, Old Red Kimono and Milkfist. He was a recent finalist in The Rash Awards, Sharkpack Alchemy, Writer’s Digest and Bacopa Literary Review poetry contests.
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