Uncertainty of distance,

the measured steps of line,

as much as I’d like to visit

your home, I stay in mine…

at a distance

I can see the lights from far away

just slivers of them dancing

over that dusky hill…

I remember when stars had five points

and were scribbled, waxy yellow

with crayoned black outline.

Lean in, if you dare…

this is our dance, beneath the pines

clothed in manufactured splendor…