You are never so big, so small,
so part of it, and yet insignificant
when lights flow and flume
across a sky insane with stars.
Green streaks smear midnight,
roughhousing rivulets widen, narrow, separate, rejoin;
celestial streams in spate following solar storm.
Freezing feet forgotten, we lay on duvets of snow,
follow the rush of electrons.
Concerns wash away,
twigs tossed to a storm swollen beck:
our place is here.
Rose Drew, an immigrant from America, realizes love and only love can save the world: though she means love for each other, not love of money and things. Rose is an anthropologist, co-hosts open mic York Spoken Word and is editor and events manager for Stairwell Books. She is tall on the inside.