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Alexandra Seiler

Storms off the Coast

I cannot always see the stars
but I always stop to check
if they are visible, dotted
randomly across the
purple-blue night sky. nobody ever tells you
that the night isn't really black,
but dark purple-blue -
nobody ever tells you
that magic happens not at midnight
but at 2:53 in the morning,
the gateway between
tomorrow and today.

I am yet haunted
by the ghost of a long-dead horseshoe crab
we found one night by the sea
and sometimes when I turn corners
I almost think I see it -
reminding me gently
that there are always other worlds
hidden just out of sight.

the stars above my head,
the creatures in the deep:
I like to think that I am getting better
at seeing.

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