SPARK

Amanda C. Brainerd
Response piece

Inspiration Piece
Commute
by Marla Deschenes

Naked fingers of the trees
Reaching for the sky
Aflame with the
Sunrise
Their cars rush by me
As I sit in the death seat
Wondering how
We all seem so unhappy
When we are
Surrounded
Every
Day
By unmistakable beauty.
Pink and purple soft light
Hugging clouds
Spreading evenly across
Wings
Upwards
The sun makes even the
factories
Seem touched by the twinkle
Of lost forgotten stars
White steam
Pours upward from tarnished smoke stacks

I wish I could pour out the inside
Or myself
And somehow show
How not to be so broken
Beaten down by life

I am broken, too.

Too sensitive for this world
Can’t grasp that idea of rules
Conformity never was my strong point
Yet I find the joy in that sunrise
Hovering over these trees
As they stretch naked fingers
Upward
Wanting nothing more
Than to greet the day.