Tellings From a Linear Landscape
We live in the horizon now.
Found the edge of the world
and called it prey. Found
the Earth’s core cascading into space;
made like Prometheus and brought light
to this nether place.
Land meets sky, girl meets boy:
I’m just retelling the beginning
of the ending of the world.
Cold comfort knowing the sun
becomes sightless. An easing,
oozing sigh of relief when the
ground folds itself a paper plane
without runway to return to.
It starts here: on a wingtip looking
for sky. Here: in the sum of every
life lived singing our time to a close.
Crescendo before the aftermath.
A final swell of waves before
the moon implodes.
Think of the horizon as a crater.
Think the heart lunar wind. Still
and unlikely for us, but perhaps
Calypso, perhaps Miranda.
Now think of the horizon
as a blanket: folds of cityscapes
and daydream clouds. Nightlight
the cumulus, the stratus …
the electricity goes out. Earth’s core
dims. Say goodnight as Earth’s
core fades and flickers out. Say
goodnight as we tuck ourselves
into the edge of the world.
And here: the song comes to a
Jade Riordan is from northern Canada; she’s currently attending university further south. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Aurorean, The Claremont Review, The Dalhousie Review, The Fib Review, the MicroText 3 anthology (Medusa’s Laugh Press), and elsewhere. She is a member of Bywords’ selection committee.