Literature
Legacy
Legacy
Finished June 29, 2008
From the holes in the ceiling small suns shone through
I reached up with one hand and there grew a peach tree rooted in carpet
Beside me another sprouted in a gentler, much deeper wood
We blocked the shine with our fingers, little eclipses
A sprung umbrage that fluttered against those equidistant stars
Fluorescence melted us into complacency, a legacy
Existence pure organic artificial
And we coalesced into one milky, silvery pool
An ocean into ourselves, a drying flooded stairwell
A breathing sage on a cellophane stage
With no where left to grow but upward
As this miniature Mediterranean