High above us
the night sky
became an x-ray
of a smoker’s lungs
(perhaps mine
from 1979),
ribbed and ridged
with darkness.
I inhaled by moonlight,
blew away a memory
of my father wheezing,
sputtering, spewing
mucus and phlegm,
his sunken eyes
rising to seek
his promised god
hiding in the night sky
high above us.
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