Jennifer Fendya
Inspiration piece
Aurora
By Ray Sharp
Response
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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