by Charles Rafferty
It floats there like an asterisk
shining down
from the page of night,
making me feel
like a footnote. I cannot be
sure what I am meant
to clarify. I am
the fine print
so fine it cannot be
read except by god —
whose glasses are so thick
you wonder
he can see anything
and whether he wants us
to have some connection
between our tiny selves
and a sky
that keeps on going.
Charles Rafferty‘s tenth book of poetry is The Unleashable Dog (2014, Steel Toe Books). His poems have appeared in The New Yorker, The Oprah Magazine, Southern Review, and Prairie Schooner. Currently, he directs the MFA program at Albertus Magnus College.
Hawaii Pacific Review 