PrintPoem – Bumping Into the Sky (By Michael H. Brownstein)
BUMPING INTO THE SKY
You think intolerance a white paste
you can spread across the air. Day comes
with a break between minutes, the red
flash of the red-winged blackbird,
a greeting from your I’noGo tied*
slung not to your belt, but to your insides:
If you say you cannot tell
what is true and what is not true,
you are saying you have lost
faith with what is real. Clouds bunch
beyond the ice, lay out a steady rain of sleet,
move within wind like a great skua
in need of food.
[su_michael_h_brownstein]