“the leafbud straggles forth / toward the frigid light of the airshaft / this is faith / the pale extension of a day” – Adrienne Rich

 

i can not speak, the

words stay curled, a leafbud

waiting for the sun, my voice straggles

from within, banging back and forth

the reverberation echoing toward

a locked gate, the

the key between my fingers, frigid

aching for light

a warmth i know nothing of

faith is like the

pupil dilated from the shock of an airshaft

the eyes screaming this

this is

faith

knowing that the

sun never sets, becomes pale

yes but in truth is an extension

of

the moon, a bond, a thread, a

promise, never broken by day