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Carol Everett Adams

Look Up

This is my purposefully-vague summary of a couple of evenings I spent in Sedona years ago watching for UFOs.


This poem is only published here.


Woman at night looking up at streetlight that is obscured by a tree
Photo by Artem Kovalev on Unsplash

Look Up


The wind through the tallest pines

is like the sound of a busy freeway, far away,


vehicles cutting across each peak in a hurry

to reach the next one. Those trees


are having a dance party, an awakening,

right up there on that road, naked,


like no one is watching. But

just after sunset, when I turn with hope


toward the traffic much higher,

something on its way to somewhere


on a better path jumps up & down: "I see you!",

not hearing me shout back, from inside its small craft.

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