Scraps I found while cleaning out some files from many years ago. I’ve always loved micropoems.

(brocade)

Sky burst with confetti flame.
As a child, I believed heaven was in the sky.
War thunders in my chest.

Twice a year, I live to see heaven burst.

(the final say)

You’ll never find me

jealous of the sun,

for it’s me whose laughter

gives rise in the darkest of night.