Expanding Poem by Michael William

Broken basket. Tired horn.
The grey cloud. A heart shape.
Maybe a circle. Maybe the
faded outline of a wallet
in the pocket of an old pair of jeans.
Crushed rose. Faded bone.
Mystic song.

Most stars we know of
are binary stars. White dwarfs and
red giants. White dwarfs.
Black holes.

Street corners and lights and the tired
scars of rain. A giant hand
of fog.

The universe expanding, expanding
like it always has, charging forward through
endless fields of time.

For this