Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Sunflower Field

A million dark eyes, open, unblinking
Ten million more inside each, huddled, sharp
Obsidian suns stand in this field
Hardly swaying, hollow, burned-out buildings
Lined with microscopic pins

Yet, for all this, you see the sweet, the
Soft surrounding haze of fire born in night
Remember a sprightly scene, a billion
Ballerinas dancing, victim to curious lovers
Yellow erupting from black, an eclipse

You see a million halos in this field