Goldenrod



Light as goldenrod
wobbles at the edge of September,
deep as the black hole in the eye,

the horizons come in to touch me,
absurd as the stars’ ancient light
that chances upon me nights, particle-waves

rushing past, intent on reaching
the rumored edge. All creation staggers on,
taking my substance with it.



Copyright © 2007, Peggy Miller

Image Credit: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Peggy Miller leads poetry workshops and is an associate editor for The Comstock Review. She has an MFA from American University. Her collection What the Blood Knows is forthcoming from Custom Words. She is author of the chapbook, Martha Contemplates the Universe, Frith Press 1999, and a Greatest Hits chapbook from Pudding House, 2003. Her poems have appeared in Connecticut River Review, Karamu, Lip Service, The Listening Eye, Lucid Stone and many more. She lives in The Villages, Florida with her husband Phil Wolfson.