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.