Cedarville Once More

By Askold Skalsky


In the morning I headed 
sea-ward to the South Jersey 
shore before turning aside 
toward the village bungalows 
around the sloping basin 
of a swanless artificial lake, 
like a glass eye ringed with 
summer foam, the school 
behind it where once outside 
I strung the planets out on 
the hot ground to show my class 
the unimaginable distances,
then in late afternoon drove 
back to the cedar tree 
marking the road’s fork  
from which I would meander 
to my parents’ house, and 
afterward kept meandering,
remembering Pluto in its 
outer sweep beyond the 
woods’ dark, solitary deep.

Photo by Vincent Corriveau