I fly between galaxies
sun to sun
on a trapezoid kite,
a song of infinite jest
cradled in photons,
a lovechild of dust.
Elements jive through
the angles of me
leaving a choir of voices
I hear with my breath.
When I wake they laugh
at my hunger,
and the artifice of dimension.
They entice my pattern
to let my genes
fling apart
on a speckled wind.
Gary Lark’s most recent collections are Coming Down the Mountain, Easter Creek, and Daybreak on the Water. His work has appeared in Beloit Poetry Journal, Catamaran, and Rattle. Gary and his wife Dorothy live in Oregon’s Rogue Valley. https://garylark.work
The Poet, Murdered Twice, Survives ---To Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861) When…
Race to Horizon --after Wassily Kandinsky’s “Lyrical” (Rider on Horse), 1911 the pitched field and…
Behind the Garage A coyote under hopbush: Juniper-misted, a little fur shining Off a growing…
Celestial Bodies --after Thirteen Women in the Volcanic Eruption, by Judith Baca, 2021 …