Friday, February 12, 2010

Whose Children are These?

Whose children are these
blocking the sun like a forest wall
They run to greet me, tongue tucked away solid
like the night

Whose children are these
Children whose words die
on lips like candied ginger
Sweet, unwavering against a backdrop of burnt sienna
the desert up their sleeves

Whose children are these
bare feet like waves, lapping against the concrete
Who are you?
They lift their faces to the sky

Black rainbow eyes, an almond explanation of darkness

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