We found ourselves
beneath a sky
we couldn’t recognize,
one made of waves
undulating in the night
like the diamond belly of a snake,
until we heard sirens calling
us to huddle in the basement
of our fears as something passed
over, a shadow without shape
that swept us out to sea
beneath the brow of a diamond sky,
a pair of lovers wrapped in new
skins, breathing moonlight and mist
as we twined in each other’s tangled hair.
Steve Klepetar lives in Saint Cloud, Minnesota, next door to some neighbors who will never read this poem.