The sun is a pretty star
known as a scavenger
of shards and ripped pages
in the craters of the moon.
It creates a new beautiful
glass with the million
shards it collected
and keeps the colorful
photographs while
burning the colors gray.
With its struggling light,
the sun sends those
things back to the moon
to keep it flying beneath
the stars.
The sun will continue to
do it for the moon until
the moon proclaims itself
as a great warrior.
YOU ARE READING
Burning Home
Puisi[ a poetry collection about grieving and becoming. ] I wish for the day when flowers no longer sink in water. When their eyes gaze not ignominy but proud; even dust can be seen as gold. And exhaustion feels rewarding.
