by Mary E. Lowd
A whispered conversation
Under the setting sun
About a star
We know so well
It has no secrets hidden
For us to urgently tell
But a question–
Nonsense yes, but still
Pressing nonetheless
–must anyway be asked:
Do you think the sun is a spaceship?
Silence rings
As the question hangs
Between two beloveds
On a clear, clear night
Could the wrong answer break a heart?
Could the right answer really be right?
Another question must
Answer the first before
The first’s thirst for an answer
Can be quenched:
Does the sunset look prettier to you if it is?
An answer, simple
As an answer can be
Pure and
Innocent
And sweet
Let foolishness not
Entreat us to lies
When such simplicity
Ties words on a tongue
To feelings in a heart:
Yes
And so said, only one response
Could ever be right
Let truth be denied
By a higher god
Of imagination
Who demands to let us see
What we must
For the world to be
All that it should
And thus, let one affirmation
Answer another:
Yes, I do