Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Friday, December 29, 2017

Here Is A Sun

Here is a sun,
extinguished, small, 
not the same one at all, but a sun nonetheless.
On a bright morning or gray weekday afternoon,
take it out,
place it on the cafe table between you and your friend.
Feel the hum inside your head;
the tears that come without reason.

"What if we are only figures inside a snow globe?" you ask.
Your friend shakes her head, turns away,
opens her mouth but doesn't speak.
You're an idiot. Again.
An idiot carrying a small dark sun around in her bag,
on the bus,
queering the traffic signals as you pass underneath.

Big bang.
That was a long time ago, now.
You and your friend cast two shadows in those days,
so substantial and fine that they might have danced away on their own.
At night you dream of geologists
breaking their teeth by biting into geodes.
You call someone.
"I didn't sleep well."
Here is a sun to toy with, to set down and forget.
Calls end, days go on and on,
the sky fills with birds no one can identify.
Your head hums, 
tears come.
Nobody asks why.
_________


 

6 comments:

  1. Yes, this is it. Life, loss, suns, glory, remembering....and tears that come, unbidden, at random moments. Sigh. Gorgeous.

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  2. hmmm. and hummm. days are beautiful and rare and sunny and what now? accept no substitutes. okay then. we've got it all figured out. and now what?? just love. i love your writing. don't waste your life on anything less than this gorgeous, complicated, undisturbed or very disturbed writing.

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  3. I read this first thing this morning, and now again, and it seems even more luminous, with that transparent, salty glimmer of light through tears as you blink them back. Your characters are as always, parts of ourselves, cells of our own cells, lives of our own lives. I don't know how you manage that, but I think it has to do with the fact that you are one of the best poets to ever hold a pen. Thanks for this light, even if what it illumines is so heart-heavy, on a grey, cold end of the year morning.

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  4. Shay--The poem was icing on the cake.

    The quote was awesome. (Where do you have time to write every day AND read/peruse enough that you find quotes like this?)

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  5. Every word found its way straight to my heart.. and if someone asks me why I'm crying, they do not deserve an answer.

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?