Autumn Sky Poetry . . . Number 8 . . .


There is no help

for a blue sky,

holding out your hand

to the wrong man

at the right time,

to underestimating

the breadth and depth

of your own thirst.

You cannot take back

the sweat of his palm

on your tongue, one night

stand he'll never believe.

You will never change

the color of the sky.

Search though you might,

amuck in pressing

the boundaries of your lungs,

your life, what luck

you have collected,

you will always thirst.

It's genetic.

It's inculcated.

It's a blessing.

Drink deep

and never be filled

because it is the surprise

of yourself, unsung,

that will water

the roots of the rest

of your days.

by Mary Alexandra Agner

Mary Alexandra Agner writes of dead women, telescopes, and secrets. She makes her home outside Boston. She can be found online at

© 2007 Mary Alexandra Agner