Under the Leonids

Until then, my best work yet: a boat, a love, the Leonids.

Quite beautiful as heartbreaks go, a near miss on a midnight

lake, with wishes dropping left and right. I laughed at that,

said take me back, and until then, I thought I meant

to shore. Nice story; camera fixed on Indian Point, boat exits

left 'neath fireworks, sponsored by the Galaxy, brought to you

by Tunnelvision. Cue piano, pretentious fin, but then

you – a star: hotter than those meteors, colder than those

miles of lake. I wrote you in, rough draft, known as

the man who loved this woman best, but take your bow;

you've been recast: the man who loved this woman last.