Comet Watching By Rebecca Woods Standing on a tower In the middle of nowhere, She only knows for sure That she is freezing. Watching for the comet, But rewarded with stars, She sighs: You can see those all the time. And the North wind whistles, Wrapping 'round the tower In an icicle-embrace. She feels its fingers on her waist. Wasn't this supposed to have meaning? The pitch-black becomes darker And colder and she knows for sure: That she is freezing. © 1997, Rebecca Woods