Constellations -- poetry by E.J. Carnegie

While talking of two years ago,

we lie and watch the moon;

your tired eyes are blinking quick,

my mom wants me home soon.

The concrete cracks under our feet,

looks so different at night.

You throw a rock at sewer grates,

we run from motion lights.

You tell me of the constellations—

I never thought you smart.

I get home late with muddy jeans,

and look up at the stars.

---

E.J. Carnegie is a young writer from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. While their main focus is in poetry, she also writes fiction, creative nonfiction, drama, and screenplays.