Two Poems

by Jennifer Crow

Midnight Watch

Moonlight creeps, stealthy silver
rogue slipping through slats
in blinds, slitting the throats
of clouds, winking for a moment
before vanishing, soft-footed
below the horizon.

Finisterre

I would have followed you to the end: of the earth,
of the dream, of the hope for humanity
in triumph or survival or endless exile.
Instead, I stand alone on a headland
overlooking a gray sea that tastes
more of death than of salt, and curse
your name as I look for the bright star
of your passing overhead. Only so many
you can save, you said, and emptied
your pockets of earth’s dust as you drained
my soul of its last illusion.

Jennifer Crow’s work has appeared in a number of print and electronic venues over the past quarter of a century, including Asimov’s Science Fiction, Uncanny Magazine, and Strange Horizons. She lives near a waterfall in western New York.