Afterlight

Not Orion’s arrowed belt, but the

great canine

dappled in the dark.

The one who rises

already searching,

pacing a snow-laced

sky, aligned to the trail

his master

left behind.

Breath-mist rising,

tiny comets from his chest, paws

silent

over frozen starlight, flickering

across the sky

as if he alone

could hold the night together. His

alabaster heart –

the brightest

blaze

in the tide of stars.

A body made of light;

bound to an ancient orbit, balanced

between the hunter’s

cosmic trail

and the endless after.

Nose lifted, ears tuned

to winds

I cannot name.

What I love is what breaks me:

how the dog keeps searching after

the hunter slips beyond the

world’s edge. Still

he keeps

searching.

in a sky frost-hollow, pulling

at a scent thin past

meaning.

past warmth,

past stars

that once knew him.

Night after night,

he claws at the dark,

his frost-bitten paws wearing

the void raw.

He keeps searching

as if waiting

might fracture fate

into mercy,

as if devotion

could starve itself

into letting go.

He does not

know the search

will outlive him.

Chasing a man

he can never catch –

grief written

into the stars

and still

he runs after.

How quickly

I would follow,

step out of the sky

to follow four dark footprints

filling quietly

with snow.