Night Walking

at Race Point Beach

Atop a rise in the distance, a radiance shines across blue-black sky.

To my right — a fox not full-grown, far-wandered from its family.

Baby fox, yellow light, and the usual tumult tucked safe inside my chest.

Can you triangulate loneliness? Shape three singularities into one

the way a clock goes on chasing its tail until the seconds blur to infinite?

The fox ambled off without offering any information.

The light bloomed in darkness, its warmth a kind of protest against our broken trinity.

As for me, I turned back toward the place I started from, all elbows and irreconcilable angles —

my life its own galaxy so many skies from home.

Happy holidays, everyone. May you find your own trinities.

If you liked “Night Walking,” you might also enjoy this one.

The Blue Tree — ILLUMINATION — Medium

Lori Lamothe is the author of three poetry collections, Trace Elements, Happily and Kirlian Effect.