Moving Out

by Aliyah Begum

He dusted the horizon with a flock of birds,
Dragged a steam train across the hills and reef.
He opened the stratosphere to let some fresh air in,
The asthmatic sheep bleated sighs of relief.

He switched off the sun and twisted it loose;
It slipped out of his hand and leapt into the sea.
He swept up the shards of ice and bergs
Into the newspapered gossip of bored manatees.

The glow-in-the-dark stars had started to fade
He gently peeled them off from the sky;
The supernova lay dying in the waste paper bin,
While the empty expanse began to cry.

He neatly folded the patchwork fields,
Wrapped up his oldest equinox.
He took down the peeling sunsets,
Then placed them all in a cardboard box.

He climbed the cliffs up to heaven,
And found an empty corner there.
He set down the box, then left with a sigh.
The world was now silent and bare.