Ray Sharp and Jennifer Fendya

Jennifer Fendya
Inspiration piece

By Ray Sharp

You trudge through the coldest hour
in that nightly red-brick canyon
where fears and worries are warehoused
behind arrays of blank-faced windows

until the sudden yellow dawn flares
hot sulfur and you blink back a tear
in the subitaneous blinding of the new day.
You are small and yellow, a mustard seed –

bitter, strong, and yes, simulacrum
of the sun.  You might grow into a tall tree
that shades all the herbs of the garden,
or light a fire that burns long into night.


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