We look out to that vast meadow and tell stories about lovemaking under trees, wildflowers up to their necks in fire, falling stars. Margaret places yellow daffodils in a white vase. Her magnificent diamond catches the light and moves in the air like a white bee. There’s a crack in the clouds and thunder comes out of it. A jig of lightning puts blood in a fruit tree. Carl likes to talk meteorites when he drinks. Saw one fall out there one night. It was like love, he says, but can’t say how. We should find it, Tom says. What, love, Carl says. Margaret laughs, leans over to move her flowers so their heads aren’t too far from each other then smooths the back of her skirt with her left hand. Her thin wrist has wild raspberries in it. Something inside me is like a mule ready to heave its last breath up to the sky for her. If she says there’s a million-in-one chance it’ll rain the cure for cancer I’ll stand under the clouds for days. We should find it, Tom says. I bet it’s still out there, the meteorite. Hal says anything can be scooped up by hawks or angels and dropped to the ground like coal. Fish, coins, frogs and spiders have fallen from the sky all over the world. Carl believes given enough space anything can happen. Even a million dandelions, he says. Each a dusty star. Margaret sits next to Tom, leans into him like a long ride home. I walk through the screen door. Lightning bugs decorate the trees. I’ll find the damn thing, I say. What might it look like, Carl. A stone, he says. That’s all it really is, a rock from the sky.

Lenny DellaRocca is founding editor and publisher of South Florida Poetry Journal-SoFloPoJo and publisher/editor of Witchery, a place for Epoems, and editor/curator of the forthcoming Chameleon Chimera, an Anthology of Florida Poets (Purple Ink Press). He’s been twice nominated for a Pushcart and Best of Net. The Epoem, a new form he’s invented, is on display at Witchery, a place for Epoems, embedded online at southfloridapoetryjournal.com