Will Hiltz

An Astronomer Drives His Wife Home

she had mixed Scotch and wine

and was going to be sick, crying already

with shame as he pulled off the road

and helped her bend down

 

the familiar stars overhead were mute

they would not speak tonight of infinities,

beginnings and ends, singularities, Einsteinian

ultimate whys and whens

 

mere dots of light 

more silent than the void they burned in

no match for the sobs and retchings at his feet

and a dog barking somewhere

 

distant