The signs are large upon us, the belts, fists,
blooming night skies and we wake up
to the sun, finally, on our blinds and lids and porcelain
stretching across the mounds of a dusty duvet
'the cat hair is free' the pillow says.
my sister paints away a carnival i can never see
a distant parade mumbling sadly in the sand dunes
my earrings humming birds on my lobes,
tiny rugs of beads made by a stranger woman who sold
them in a gas station
we hear each other and never speak
blue eyes are locked and lowered down
like the world's longest hair
high in a tower
he falls to his death
his wings work,
but it doesn't matter-
nothing ever really did, in that 3 seconds
speedily,
when all was made of love and it carried him
to a mud bed face-up and beautiful,a good friend to the firmament and all who live above
our sleepy lolly-gag
crappy photos of beautiful Torey Bonar paintings taken while in MN last week at Umber Studio.
random poem inspired by these and springtime and astrological signs.
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