The hill above the town
“I ask not in sorrow…” – Czeslaw Milosz
We were walking on the hill above the town,
two of us, after the pubs shut
when a quick bright slash ripped across the sky.
Only I saw it – he was facing away
but we both then heard an owl’s call, very close,
as if in exclamation.
That was thirty years ago. Now all
are gone: the meteor, the exclamation,
my brother. I say this not in grief,
Jon Alex Miller lives in London with his husband and dog. He has poems published in Magma, the Haiku Quarterly and the Hyacinth Review. He works with big businesses on climate change and social justice. @JonMillerXX