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