Lanterns of the Night Sky

Floating festival lanterns; stars in the sky.

A poem by William Doreski

The lanterns of the night sky

light nothing but old histories

we’re afraid to tell each other.

The lanterns compete with stars

and usually outshine them

with staggers of eloquent fire.

The annals they illuminate

remain as true as ever, texts

composed of brittle human flesh.

Their haunted cathedrals loom

at the edge of forests reclaiming

cities recently abandoned,

but no one dares recite the tales

left untold in the shadows cast

by forgotten Gothic architects.

So many ruins coughing up weeds

and snoring in their spilled rubble.

We never got to visit the best

of them: Babylon, Joppa. Gdansk,

Sophia, Madras, Lhasa, Perth.

These fossil sites will haunt us

for a while, then forget themselves

in brambles, saplings, and dust storms.

The lighter of lanterns has passed,

leaving the sky in ashes. The moon

and the last stars have withdrawn,

leaving the lanterns smiling

over a landscape ripe for revenge.