~LIGHTSEY DARST~

JUNE

---

Into cranes that fly
she folds her last angry letters.
Setting them free from the windowsill

she sees raindrops bite but not
harm their blue-scripted wings.
Only the words are hurt.

From the flooded gutter
she fishes buttons, some
from a school uniform, pink pearl

orphans. She does not know yet
what to make from these other
trophies of defiant weather.

 
 

© by Lightsey Darst