Sunrise tree


Down this lane there burns a window
Whose cleared stone crimsons
When an evening sun reminds it
of the molten state. This pane

Becomes a pool of cold fire drawn
From light as light is bent upon
The edge of air in hopes of rednesses
Only blood can understand.

This evening prismatic breaks
Transparency into a slice of flame,
Captures in its own reflection
A piece of star that must appeal to

Passing eyes for reprieve yet, gets no
Farther than my memory. Transparency
Puts to better use than I the light
Our star gambled on us today.

I walk on while this window stalks
Me by turning into other windows
In other houses, with visions
Launching back out into space.
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