Dark Star

by Bri Bruce


I had not expected, mid-life,

that already my shining years

would be behind me, traded

for more essential things:

what it means

to have patience,

to wage a war,

how to endure.


I remember clearer now:

the smooth dunes,

bare shoulders,

my body feeling somehow

less bound, belonging

to me. You came out

of the sea—salt on skin.

In a particular way,

your face opened

beneath the midday sky.

Those early days I miss

when the light in your eye

hadn’t dimmed—before

you closed to me, some magic

you never spoke of



Yet we are here, still,

silvering at our temples and

saturated with all

we’ve lived, dark star

on my horizon.




Award-winning author and Pushcart Prize nominee, California poet Bri Bruce has been deemed the “heiress of Mary Oliver.” With a bachelor’s degree in literature and creative writing from the University of California at Santa Cruz, her work has appeared in dozens of anthologies, magazines, and literary publications, including The Sun Magazine, Northwind Magazine, The Soundings Review, and The Monterey Poetry Review, among others.


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