Sygyzy, a Word...

when the mind is in a spot on its orbit
in opposition to the sun, the whys
floating around like tasseled hats
in a wind of expected snow.

Sygyzy, a weight of night against night,
both make a sandwich gripping day,
a thin slice of white mozzarella,
in crushing jaws. Soon daylight

will be so fleeting you’ll want to hold
onto it and yell at it to stay around longer,
and we two by the fire, so glad not to be
two deer, in the rough, in the dark cold.