by Alan Bernheimer
Your face fills the sky
like a windmill
with the look of living certainty
and a smile dissolved by air
You sit on your shoulders
We see hair, mouth
the nose on your face
and the light brown
light in your brown
fifteenth century eyes
one looking inside
the other ahead
You wear black
the color of the universe
and the blue sky is white in back
What we don't know
is what you are about to say
From:
Café Isotope
Copyright ©:
Alan Bernheimer
Last updated December 24, 2022