Kite

My job is to keep night
in the sky, to corner the moon
so it has no where else to go.

I uncork a thousand bottles of
wine and let their darkness
evaporate into the ether.
In this way, I keep the sky
dark forever.

I cannot let night
cross the finish line!

I cannot let night
sink back into the well
from where it came,

nor let it
slide back into the
dark, empty throat
of the deceased wolf.

It is my job to keep
night in the sky,
corralling it,
as it bucks and twists,
far above rooftops.

Night is a black kite
of endless perimeter,
floating at the end of the string
looped around my finger.