Constellations
A Poem
--
You had eyes made for stargazing
and I had eyes made for looking toward new horizons
your heart seemed accustomed
to hiding in small spaces
and mine has never learned
to stop looking for things that hide
You had hands stained green
crafted to coax life from dirt
and I had hands meant
for letting things slip
between fingers slick with worry
Your feet were designed for
digging in and growing roots
and I had feet that ached
for the kiss of anywhere else
but where I was
And I used to think:
What if my sore feet stood buried in salt water
on the same shore as you
and your stargazing eyes watched
that skyline disappearing against distant waves
and maybe your hands could grow something new
and maybe I could learn how to keep a better grip
and maybe your heart would like open spaces
after all
We never saw the constellations the same way
and my feet are somewhere you aren’t
The skies were beautiful while we stood under them
but the time has come
to seek new shores
Grace Moore is a writer of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction. Her interests include travel, reading, and doing any activity that involves supplies from the craft store. She lives in Washington with her husband, where they can often be found discussing Doctor Who in-depth. She’s passionate about helping writers find their motivation and unlock their creativity. Follow her on Instagram, sign up for her newsletter, and support her on Ko-fi.
