by Heather Palmer
Night looks through a man's pupils like
Eyes glare at the sun.
Roses bloom to light the soul's rooms.
Green grass ablaze a city dawned. The path cuts across foam-green like slices of a cake half eaten. Everyone wants a piece. And why shouldn't we see the future? We climb aboard the top of our buildings for G-d.
"Do you want to know?"
The answer sits in your front lawn—irreverent, steely, beneath dawn.
Try not to dwell too long on the result of your baking,
Or eating the spoon, the bowl, in between.
Satiety comes with pouring out your
Emptiness. Wait in silence.
child of heat and sun
Like a string of pearls on a necklace
Around my neck, planets circle the sun.
You might ask what I know of the sun
but you have yet to look into my face
Where pearls reflect the light of a brighter star.