Head bowed, I stand upon my earth-bound grave,
Coy Spring’s coolness breathes its weight -- and declaims
My dreams. Stars above! Shine cruelty's rays!
Pardon my mind, it is a fragile flame…

I stand. And rip my breast apart, too late,
Proud-minded trait, the rules have changed. I am
Adult, why can’t my brain retain the dam
Of responsibility? Is this Fate?

Cold stars, undone in Spring’s cool Night, I fall
And plead for life -- my light seems so dull. How
Does age grow? I fear my demise. My thrall,
Overactive mind. Must I disavow?

Cold stars? I feel your heat, how can I de-
Feat the acute rapture of being me?

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 3/9/04