Black Flame
Every day she must build the world anew —
reconstruct the airy surfaces, the solid ground,
Every day she must populate her world anew,
paint her world with faces of people she can see —
Every day she must give birth to Sun and Cloud,
the sway of trees under russet skies,
the Autumn breeze, the ocean tide.
Every day she must bear the fruit of night and day,
black flame of language, in her history —
Every day she must build the world anew —
reconstruct the airy surfaces, the solid ground,
the sway of trees under russet skies,
the Autumn breeze, the ocean tide.
And every day she must struggle to be free or not to be at all,
she herself made and unmade by other stranger lips.
—© Jim Valero, 2018 (all rights reserved).
