Postcard unto a glint of lightspeed
Little pinprick, little leaklight: so much dissipates in the wake; so much accumulates in a delay. A wink become a nova become just another patch of darkness. The wind was up a little today and I was watching a flake of mica vibrate, a loose tooth-filling aching to free from igneous pebble, and its little dance was brighter than the sun - if reflected, if minuscule - and I was watching a single iridescent insect wing flashing rainbows, veined and brittle, a little plastic smudge of oil - the greedy vestiges of little black bulges that spin webs and crystals and leave them.
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About The Author
Jacob A. Bennett
lives and works in Philadelphia, where he teaches rhetoric, poetry, and
literature. Links to CV, other poems, and various well-intentioned screeds
published at: antigloss.wordpress.com
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