Measured Moments

— Leslie E. Hoffman

Staying ahead of the darkness
I return to one of the moments
my life is measured by…
laying in the open bed
of your pick-up truck, snug
in sleeping bags, except
for our noses—the scent
of sugar pine refined
by our campfire, its smoke
ascending precipitously
toward jagged silhouettes
of Sierra Nevada peaks
—awaiting
satellite flybys
while you explain to me
Russia and the United States
navigate opposite orbits
tonight, both crossing
Scorpio’s full moon
…not knowing at the time, only
the persistent memory of you
would stay with me.

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