The Sunset Bruised the Bottom of the Sky

by Cameron Lovejoy

pexels-photo-326119
CC0 Creative Commons

 

The sunset bruised the bottom of the sky.
Our long day hangs on memory’s edge;
Were we but a blemish in a bird’s eye?

Our young winter walk with fingertips tied
Renewed the veins and marred cartilage.
The sunset bruised the bottom of the sky.

From afar, we watched the slip of avalanche pry
Away the mountain’s fleshy ledge.
Were we but a blemish in a bird’s eye?

It thundered to cover where bones still lie,
Skulls of stone to the hammer sledge.
The sunset bruised the bottom of the sky.

Trees were snapped, the sap of love dried,
Timber split by the axe’s wedge.
Were we but a blemish in a bird’s eye?

And we, now farther from memory’s cry,
Grow deaf to the yells in the burial sludge.
The sunset bruised the bottom of the sky.
We were but a blemish in a bird’s eye.

 

Cameron Lovejoy is a poet, gardener, and Lindy Hopper. After ten years on the road, he’s been adopted by New Orleans where he now resides, sweaty and content. You can find him on the street writing poetry on demand.
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