KJ Delaney

Evergreen’s Stars

I find a space beneath.

The air here, cool and fresh as if in  

a northern wood.

From my back, pressed against the worn oak floor,

I look up

through branches,

though bare and gnarled near the trunk,

evergreen.

This denizen of a forest removed

and now

wrapped, too tight,

in wires and foil.

The prismatic effect, bewildering.

Red, yellow, green and orange

lights blink and my nerves fire;

an aurora or, perhaps, each bulb

a distant star.