THE PEARL YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK by Baxter Jackson |
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SCORCHER
by Don Thompson If the dazed, innocuous lizard, tip-toeing across hot rock, descends from beasts with teeth larger than it is, maybe this weather has ancestors, too— fierce climates no one could live in. Only a few trees held on, bearing fruit with skin like silica heat tile. Small lakes simmered until dark. And the people lived deep, close to underground rivers with an ambient glow. But even then, the old could remember worse and scoffed: "You think this is hard to take? Let me tell you..." |
REACHING FOR THE STARS Art and Photo by Christian DeLaO |
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YOUR STARDUST TEARS
by Celestial K. When your eyes cry, stardust puffs and spreads like a sore gift from the heavens in your holy tear ducts out, and the dust of stars flows down your smooth baby-face cheek, and falls to the wettened ground like a glassy rainfall, the drops quenching the dark soils thirst and it drinks it in, in, in until there is nothing left to satisfy. The Earth becomes impregnated from your stardust tears, and babies sprout in weak trees, shrubs, flowers, and leaves, until it all and everything, over time, grows strong and looks back to the heavens. |
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