I Carry the Sun by Lynne Peskoe
My feet cross ancient trails
And as I move, the ground buckles round each toe
The dank air pulls heat from my neck.
But I've convinced myself that I carry the sun…
Grass whispers, beckons to my ankles as they pass
But the sun's gold has leaked into my eyes
And I look only up,
Ahead, to where everything joins crooked;
Where the sky draws the sun between folded peaks,
The legs of the world –
A stark border awaits us. The wet air perched
On the gasping surface, their desires quenched only
When the answer is released; my star.
Only he and I can stitch together
What was born apart.
Sky, be still; heaving earth, take heart;
We'll reach you soon enough.
|
|
|
|
