Ars Poetica for Horizons of Earth & Sky
Shirley Jones-Luke

We can’t go beyond my view:
   bug-eyed skewers, slits of sight
on the edge of air. I can almost see the line.
   this existence lives in the atmosphere;
that’s why when we fall, we fall hard
    through layers of clouds, blanketing
lightning & thunder, watching stars
  twist out of the way. caught napping
is night, jolted awake by the noise.
we are flat pieces of flesh, earth’s skin
is a board, so we write a banner praising the planet.
we land on the surface, launching tons of dirt
& rock into the sky who swats it away with
a lightning bolt; we laugh as we are pelted
by soil & insects take their revenge in our hair.
we care not, the edge is within reach


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