Part I
He reaches out
to stop a bolt mid-shot,
holding it suspended
until he sees fit to release it.
She reaches out
to examine and fix
a stray droid's antenna
and point the way to leave.
He reaches out
to pry open a prisoner's mind,
like metal that screams
in resistance to force.
She reaches out
to offer help,
extending the same hand
she withdrew moments before.
He reaches out
to seize the messenger
and demand an explanation
for such strange news.
She reaches out
to touch the heirloom,
recoiling when
its power manifests.
He reaches out
to sift through thoughts,
rifle through memories,
until he is pushed back
and finds her reaching for his.
They reach out
for the weapon in the snow,
twitching until it flies
past the heir apparent
into the hand of the stranger.
Author's Note: I'm going to have one chapter for each film. If you like this, you may also enjoy "Flame and Shadow," a series of poems I wrote about Katara and Zuko from Avatar: The Last Airbender.
